


Prelude 3: Hollow

by C_Aureus



Series: Promises [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Depression, F/M, Gallows Humor, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, Near Death Experiences, Obsession, Panic Attacks, Post-Breath of the Wild, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Suicide, Self-Harm, Self-Recrimination, Severely depressed individual, Sidon is precious, Sidon needs a hug, Survivor Guilt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Aureus/pseuds/C_Aureus
Summary: After Hyrule has been saved from the threat of the Calamity, Sidon decides to take a walk along the Eastern Akkala clifftops.Evidently, Link had a similar idea.
Relationships: Link & Prince Sidon, Link/Mipha (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Promises [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894438
Comments: 28
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is the third of four preludes I've currently written.
> 
> As you might have noticed from the tags, and the rating, this one is _very_ heavy. Please take care if anything mentioned above triggers you.
> 
> Stay safe, guys.

### Chapter 1

### 

With the Calamity defeated, thus ending the Blood Moon's infinite resurrection of monsters in Hyrule, many had collectively deemed open travel to be far safer than any time Sidon could remember in his century of life.

Of course, 'safer' was only a relative term, however this had not deterred Sidon, and many others, from exercising their newfound ease of roaming. A fact which no doubt aggravated Sidon's father to no end.

Naturally, Sidon didn't blame him; he could well understand King Dorephan's hesitance to let him travel freely, without escort, but he thought that they had worked out a reasonable compromise. Speaking from a political perspective, if anything tragic were to befall Sidon, then the Domain would be left without an heir after Dorephan eventually passed.

Speaking from a more familial perspective, Sidon had witnessed how Mipha's death had nearly destroyed his father, a century ago, and the wounds from that loss were still apparent and would never truly heal. Sidon would not ever wish to inflict a similar pain upon his father. Not when he was the only family the old King had left.

Sidon had to repress a wan smile as he remembered his ill considered escapade to Lurelin Village, to defeat the Giant Oktorok that was terrifying the locals there. His father was _far_ more restrictive of him then than he was now, and he thinks that his disobedience was the result of an adolescent's penchant for hubris and rebellion; his innate desire to prove himself and live up to his sister, prove that he knew better than the adults holding him back...

The Stone his father had commissioned retold the event in a rather heroic, if slightly comical, manner. The lesser known truth behind that was that Sidon had come terribly close, _frighteningly_ close, to dying in that monster's belly.

When he returned home, his father was, naturally, furious at him. He'd later realised that Dorephan's anger had come from a bone-chilling fear that he had come very close to losing the last of his family, and his fury and subsequent grounding was borne of his desire to try to protect him, the way he thought he had failed to protect his daughter, and his wife. It was overbearing, and stifling, but Sidon had been too shaken to protest it, in the wake of his return.

Sidon also realised later that not only had his father seen through his attempts to downplay the danger he faced during that day, but also how little he had pretended the experience had affected him, for after one extremely humiliating official meeting, his father had spent the rest of the day desperately holding him close, in private, which Sidon was more than happy to oblige.

Kings were not supposed to cry, to show weakness to their subjects. Despite that, that day was the only time he recalled seeing his father cry, except for the morning after they realised Mipha was never coming home.

It was a sobering experience, all things considered.

Sometimes he still had nightmares about that day. He dreamed of suffocating, as slimy, fleshy walls constricted him, crushing the air out of him and gagging on the foul stench of the creature's innards, putrid with the rot of countless decaying bodies. As he slipped further and further down the creature's gullet, the light from outside dimmed, fading away, eventually leaving him trapped in utter blackness, as he was slowly crushed into oblivion...

He had developed quite acute claustrophobia from that incident.

Which, incidentally, was alleviated somewhat by his wanderlust; he knew of no better remedy to stave off the incoming panic attacks of hallucinatory walls closing in on him than wide open spaces. Whenever he felt that phantom heaviness in his chest that constricted his throat, he sought the outside, some place with a view that extended all the way to the horizon, and preferably even beyond it.

Which is what led Sidon to the Eastern Akkala coast, just beyond the shade of Ploymus Mountain, strolling along the cliff face as he looked Eastwards, past the small archipelago, to the Lanayru Sea beyond. 

He had heard that Mipha had completed a Champion's trial in this area from Muzu. The ancient ray Zora had been muttering to himself about Link, as he was wont to do. However, much to Sidon's unmasked astonishment, the cantankerous advisor had actually been _praising_ the Hylian Champion!

Sidon had clearly heard the old fish utter something about Link 'doing honour to dear Mipha's memory'. When he inquired as to the meaning behind that vague statement, Muzu had almost jovially informed him that Link had been following in the footsteps of the Champions, and undertaking and completing the trials they had once undergone in their honour and memory. 

The revelation had drawn a warm feeling from Sidon's chest. He truly meant it whenever he told Link that knowing Mipha was on his mind made him happy. However, in recent times he had slowly come to understand that perhaps Link did not feel the same way. It was given away in the melancholy of his eyes, even before that too-hesitant smile appeared on his face. In recent weeks, that melancholy was beginning to fade into poorly concealed bitterness from the young Hylian.

Sidon sympathised with Link. Although Mipha's absence was still like a hole had been torn out from his heart, he had had an entire century to come to terms with it, to make peace with it, and for that wound to begin to scab over. Link had not had the luxury of time to dull the edge of the pain. 

Despite the century that had passed between then and now, Link had mentioned that he had not been aware of any of it, due to his slumber in the Shrine of Resurrection. Sidon understood that from Link's perspective, she may as well have only been dead for a few months, at most. His own memories from the months after Mipha's death were hazy, and blurred by time and his own youth, but he remembered the crushing depression and grief that had overtaken him even now.

All things considered, Link was handling it admirably, Sidon thought. Especially since he had been immediately tasked with destroying the Calamity and saving Hyrule. Sidon was in awe of Link's ability to push through to complete his critical task, despite the emotional turmoil he had experienced.

Sidon's contemplation was abruptly cut off when he realised that he was approaching someone. That in itself was unusual, given that he was in a rather remote area and was therefore not heavily trafficked. A flash of wariness rose in Sidon in spite of his natural disposition, for the sorry state of the land meant that strangers could not be trusted at a glance; many were all too eager to attempt to exploit others if they thought they could get away with it, especially if, Nayru forbid, they happened to be a covert Yiga agent. Sidon's gills flared with an involuntary, disgusted shudder at their name.

That being said, the Zora had noticed that the number of Yiga incidents had drastically decreased, a good few weeks after Link had pacified Vah Ruta. Oddly enough, it was around the time that their intelligence had reported Link as heading for the Gerudo Highlands, where their hideout was rumoured to be.

Sidon was willing to bet that those two events were causally related, although he'd never asked, after seeing Link's involuntary response to them being mentioned in a conversation they had overheard.

Almost as quickly as his hackles had risen, he found them relaxing, for he recognised the person he was approaching. After being on his mind all afternoon, who else would it be standing on that cliff edge than Link himself? Perhaps the goddesses had divinely ordained their encounter?

Sidon dismissed the thought; in his experience, the goddesses held no care for such... matters.

Link, too, was staring out over the sea. He stood with his back to the entirety of Hyrule, face to face with the infinite void.

The sea breeze whipped up, sending Link's tunic flapping like a flag caught in a gale, as his hair brushed against his face. The setting afternoon sun lit his right cheek in a golden radiance, as he brought up a hand to dismiss the errant locks from where they were covering his eyes with an accompanying flick of his head. His eyes shone like sapphires, the sunlight sparkling off them, to the envy of the ocean before them.

To Sidon, Link looked...

He found himself short of words to describe the scene, for none seemed to truly do the Hylian justice. Sidon drew a startling comparison to the epic artworks depicting heroic figures from times long passed, whose names and deeds had been forgotten to time, but lived on in legend.

Sidon spent a fair amount of time attempting to find the correct words to describe it to himself. He eventually settled on one:

Link looked utterly _ethereal._

As if he'd stepped straight out of a book of ancient mythology, from the eras of Odysseys, Quests, Heroes and Demons. He looked as if he simply did not belong in the real, gritty, tragic world they lived in, and instead came from an idealised fairy tale, the likes told to innocent, wide-eyed children who were too young to face the bitterness of reality, and could afford their childish fantasies for a few years yet.

Sidon did not know how Link did it: Despite the fact that Sidon himself was almost _twice_ as tall as the shorter-than-average Hylian, Link managed to carry himself with the weight and gravitas comparable to a Lynel. Even in a room of strangers, Link could command the entire room with his presence alone, if he so chose. Normally, he was happy to melt into the background and let others take centre stage. However, Sidon had seen Link turn on his intensity, like striking a match, as he instantly became the most authoritative person in the room, without even uttering a word. A room filled with several members of _royalty._

It was breathtaking. 

_He_ was breathtaking.

Sidon felt privileged to know him, and call him a friend.

Link had not moved, in all the time Sidon had stood gaping, as his brain short-circuited. He was still a fair ways away, but Link's eyes had not shifted from the horizon even once. Sidon assumed that logically meant that Link had not spotted him. He was not too familiar with a Hylian's field of vision, however he was pretty sure that Link would not be able to see him approaching without turning his head. Especially since he was stood near to the edge of the cliff.

Remarkably near to the edge of the cliff, in fact.

Sidon squinted at him. He'd known Link for long enough now that Link's utter lack of self preservation instincts no longer shocked him. His father had informed him, not long after he'd first escorted Link to the Domain, that he had been the same way a century ago, much to Mipha's eternal exasperation, and that he was truly happy that his personality had managed to remain intact, even though his memories had not.

It had apparently become sort of a running joke among the Zora Council that Mipha had become so proficient in her healing abilities out of sheer necessity to keep Link in one piece, despite his best intentions to the contrary.

Sidon had often mused fondly, after watching Link glide away on that paraglider he was so fond of, that Link must be slightly touched in the head for him to express such open exhilaration at being suspended hundreds of feet in the air by little more than a piece of cloth. Sidon certainly didn't think that he could stomach it. It wasn't that Sidon had a _phobia_ of heights, or even a fear of falling, but a healthy aversion to the very rapid deceleration at the end of such a fall had never killed anyone.

Though he supposed that even if Link were to fall, he'd have ample time to unfurl his glider and land safely. He could never tell where Link kept it on him; as far as any witnesses could tell, the thing seemed to just apparate out of the aether whenever Link desired to summon it, and disappear again as soon as he'd landed. He wondered if that was due to his remarkable Slate; the wondrous piece of ancient technology that allowed Link to perform some of his more impressive feats.

It was then that Sidon noticed a bundle some yards behind Link, nestled against an errant stone. It appeared to be a traveller's pack, likely containing the essentials for anyone who would be travelling for several days, away from civilisation. Draped over the top of the pack was undoubtedly Link's glider; its distinctive pattern too familiar to Sidon's eye for him to ever mistake it. The implications of that were not good, in the event of Link falling; Sidon had never actually seen it teleport from one physical location into Link's hands. 

Sidon's gaze whipped back to Link so fast he wouldn't have been surprised to injure the tendons in his neck. Link, of course, had still not moved an inch, a veritable statue. The only hint that he was indeed alive, and not a disturbingly realistic mannequin, was the soft, periodic rising of his chest, deepened by the occasional sigh that seemed to carry on the wind to Sidon's ears.

An irrational fear filled Sidon for a brief moment; fear for Link's safety, stood as he was at the edge of a cliff with no means to save himself in the event of his fall. Sidon _knew_ that his fear was irrational, because he had seen with his own eyes what Link was capable of. Indeed, such a formidable warrior, skilled and powerful enough to retake the Divine Beasts, and defeat Calamity Ganon itself in single combat, would certainly know his own limits, and would not be killed by something as petty as falling off a cliff face.

Realistically, Sidon _knew_ that Link was in no danger. However, despite his calm, logical realisation, he found himself unable to fully banish the worry from his chest. It was just...

The wind where they were stood was rather sharp, as evidenced by the frenetic dance Link's looser clothing was performing. Link, for all of the indomitable aura he exuded, was deceptively small. Many people joked about expecting the Hero of Hyrule to be taller, upon first meeting him. Those jokes tended to cease, upon becoming witness to any of his implausible feats, but even then...

Sidon had carried Link before. Several times, in fact. He knew intuitively how heavy the young man was. It had shocked him how easy it was for him to bodily hoist the smaller man into the air, given Link's larger-than-life presence, and ferocious strength.

It wouldn't take much for just the slightest increase in the wind's speed, or a sudden change in its direction, to dislodge one of his feet, and send him tumbling into the waters far below.

But surely Link would never be so clumsy, Sidon reasoned. Link, who possessed an otherworldly grace in combat, keeping calm enough to make impossible shots even under the most dire of circumstances when they had assaulted Vah Ruta, would also possess enough sense to not let himself slip.

Even so, Sidon found himself increasingly uncomfortable just watching him, a sense of foreboding curdled his stomach, as if he was witnessing the prelude to a tragedy about to unfold. For his own peace of mind, he'd get Link to retreat from the cliff face.

Finding out how to work his legs once again, Sidon resumed his approach. He was fairly sure that Link had noticed someone approaching by now, confident in Link's honed instincts that must have certainly saved his life on innumerable occasions, however in the event that Link _hadn't_ noticed him, he elected to at least attempt to not startle him. It would be remarkably ironic, in a morbidly comedic way, if after all of his worrying, he _caused_ Link to fall, after all.

Sidon considered his options of greetings. He had already ruled out his normal, boisterous shout, which left him contemplating his remaining options, for all that he wished he could simply walk up behind him and, forcibly if necessary, drag Link back from the abyss below him.

Of course, he couldn't do that. After all, Link startled _badly._ Sidon had no desire to be electrocuted today.

Sidon stood for several moments a respectable distance behind Link, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, as he tried to work out the most appropriate, and simultaneously un-startling, greeting.

His musing was cut off abruptly, as Link's chest heaved an enormous sigh, far larger than the ones Sidon had witnessed before, before his soft, harmonic voice drifted just above the wind.

''It's a beautiful view, isn't it, Sidon?''

Caught off guard by the hail, Sidon mentally caught himself as he tried to formulate a response. He finally settled with the safest choice: A simple agreement.

''Yes, I suppose it is. Although, I'm sure it can be admired just as much from ten yards behind you.'' Some of Sidon's subconscious fear leached into what was supposed to be a facetious, if chiding, remark.

Link's shoulders seemed to twitch in what Sidon assumed was a snort of amusement, although his feet remained rooted where they were.

''This cliff is over thirty metres tall.'' Link continued, un-admonished. ''If something were to fall from this height, it would be travelling at over twenty metres per second when it hit the water, which, incidentally, is more than fast enough to break a Hylian's bones, provided one landed incorrectly.''

Sidon blanched.

Link continued, as if he was merely discussing the weather, instead of his own mortality.

''Of course, even if one _did_ land correctly, the cold water shock, impact shock and lack of an available beach would likely mean that they would drown, regardless.'' Link gave an errant wave of his hand, gesturing to the space below him.

A cold weight settled in Sidon's chest. The fact that Link was so casual, so _flippant_ about such a statement in his current position was highly worrying. Sidon knew Link was reckless, hell, the man was infamous for it, but these were not the words of a rash, foolish adrenaline seeker dispassionately listing the dangers of their activities.

For one terrible moment, Sidon felt fear. A familiar, awful fear that he never wanted to experience again, clawing up his chest, constricting his lungs and stealing his breath away. The same fear he'd once experienced in the guts of that damn Oktorok. 

But this time it was not directed towards himself.

Sidon swallowed thickly, his tongue seemed too large for his mouth. He cursed it, for, if what he was fearing was true, he would need to make full use of his eloquence, not have it numbly flapping in fear and disbelief.

''Well, as... _fascinating_ as that may be...'' Sidon winced, hoping he was reading Link's mood correctly, and he would be receptive to his own usual brand of dry commentary, ''I suppose it's ultimately irrelevant as long as you're not planning on jumping?'' Sidon sent an imploring tone in his question, silently begging Link not to act foolishly, if he was so planning on it. He attempted to disguise his worry with a supplementing statement, if indeed Link was merely 'admiring the view', and not planning to...

Goddesses above, Sidon couldn't even finish that thought, lest it become true.

''After all, you're hardly dressed for swimming, my friend!'' Sidon finished brightly. He had noticed that whenever Link visited the Domain, or really any area where it was an inevitability that one would get wet, that he would always, unfailingly, don Mipha's armour, her planned engagement gift to him. Link had always seemed proud to wear it, a fact which comforted Sidon, but simultaneously broke his heart.

Link chuckled at his statement, but it was not a happy noise. He'd likely made the connection Sidon had intimated; after all, most Hylians were so adverse to getting their regular clothing wet. Another rumbling sigh passed his shoulders, before he finally turned to face his claimed brother, taking a very generous step back from the cliff edge, to Sidon's marked relief.

''Now, Sidon,'' Link chuckled. ''You needn't be so concerned for me.'' He said gently, calming Sidon's frazzled nerves.

Sidon swore internally, partly ashamed, mostly mortified that he'd been so worried that Link was about to...

Despite Link's retreat, he still found himself incapable of even contemplating the idea.

''After all,'' Link carried on, approaching Sidon now, ''I've survived jumping from Shatterback Point. Compared to that, this cliff is barely an overzealous ledge.'' His words were warmer now, familiar. Even his tone had changed for the lighter. Link's face wore a smile, a gentle and beautiful thing that Sidon wanted to cherish, however it was spoiled by the reflections in Link's eyes.

His face was smiling, but his eyes were utterly _empty._

''In the months after my resurrection, I have become incredibly, _intimately,_ knowledgeable on exactly what will and will not kill me. So believe me when I say that this cliff will not be the end of me.''

Sidon's heart clenched with fear, worry, admiration, awe and a thousand other emotions at Link's words. He was overcome with awe at what Link had accomplished and lived through, but despaired over the fact that he'd had to endure those experiences in the first place.

''And even if I were so unfortunate as to fall, I knew that you would be there to rescue me anyway.'' Link smiled that false smile of his again. However, Sidon had to suppress his laugh at the genuine humour in Link's tone.

''Ah, of course. Like that time with the Lynel?'' Sidon offered, hopefully.

Mirth danced across Link's features.

_Sidon cast his mind back to that fateful night: Link had been visiting, and the last he'd seen of him, the young Hylian was swimming up the waterfalls in Upland Zorana, using his enchanted Zora armour. The freedom and joy expressed by Link when he did so made Sidon eternally grateful that his sister had allowed Link to experience what was normally reserved exclusively to Zora._

_Several hours later, after night had fallen, there had been no word or sighting of Link. That was to be expected however; he rather had the tendency to come and go as he pleased, so it was certainly no cause for alarm, no matter how lonely Sidon had felt in his absence._

_That was before an ungodly screeching echoed around the home of the Zora, followed closely by an almighty splash. Many had been worried that Ganon had finally managed to escape his prison, and had arrived to complete its devastation of what little remained after its initial rampage. Sidon, and several of the Royal Guard, had immediately journeyed to the site of the splash, the East Reservoir Lake, happening across it in almost darkness._

_In the far distance, near to the base of Ploymus Mountain, beneath the infamous Shatterback Point, Sidon had noticed movement, his sharp hunter's eyes defining the panicked splashing of something in distress, before the splashing had stopped and the water went still. Immediately diving into the water, to the protest of his guards, he'd sniffed deeply. His olfactory receptors had immediately recognised the offensively abhorrent stench of Ganon-spawn malice, but beyond that, fainter, was a far more pleasantly enticing smell to his predatory instinct; the blood of an animal, a mammal._

_A **Hylian.**_

_Sidon's instincts had immediately kicked into overdrive, faced with the evidence of a sentient in distress, as he'd taken off towards the location of the panicked struggling, Bazz and Gaddison left in his considerable wake._

_As Sidon approached, he'd continued inhaling water, attempting to pinpoint the location of the source with his formidable sense of smell. He'd honed in on the Hylian, now distinctly separated from whatever monster had fallen into the reservoir, and as he got closer, his heart had plummeted into his gut, as he recognised the scent of the Hylian._

_It was a scent he'd begun to cherish, as the person accompanying it had never failed to improve his mood. A scent he'd longed for, to alleviate the boredom or loneliness of his taxing days practising politics with the Zora Council. A scent he'd last scented earlier that day, upon wishing its owner happy travels._

_The blood in the water he'd scented had belonged to Link._

_Faced with the possibility of his dearest friend in distress, Sidon had somehow managed to redouble his speed, as he'd raced towards what he'd hoped was Link's triangulated location. However it had become difficult to accurately pinpoint the origin; Link's blood had diffused in a perplexing pattern leaving Sidon second guessing as to his location._

_Panic had seeped into Sidon's limbs weighing them down with dread. What if Link was drowning? Could Sidon find him in time, before water flooded his lungs and he died, thus dooming Hyrule to Ganon's wrath, without its hero to save it? The fact that the water had gone still after struggling had not been a good sign; it implied that whomever was splashing was already submerged. If that was the case, the odds of Sidon finding them in time were incredibly dim._

_As Sidon had swum in panicked circles, he could hear his heart thudding in his ears, his hope had bled into the water not unlike the blood and malice he could still smell._

_To this day, Sidon was still unsure as to what truly transpired that night. However if anyone had asked him, he would have told them that he'd felt an unquestionable compulsion to bank left, overwriting his conscious choice and instead appropriating his base instincts. In his stupefied mind, he'd found no will to disobey the order and followed it blindly, desperately._

_Months after the event, he still did not know which goddess to thank that his gut feeling turned out to be accurate, but even despite that, he would likely have not spotted Link in time, if not for the soft blue glow that illuminated him like a beacon against the inky blackness of the water's surface. It seemed to trigger a deep sense of nostalgia, and longing in Sidon that he could not find answers within himself to explain._

_By the time he'd reached Link, the glow had faded, but Sidon still swore up and down that he'd heard a voice, a female voice, whispering on the winds on Lanayru. He hadn't managed to discern any words, but the message was clear enough anyway._

_Love, pain, admonishment, fondness, sadness, regret._

_And then, Link had opened his eyes, and they were filled with tears._

_Sidon had immediately grabbed Link, and moved to swim them back to the shore. Link had been oddly silent on his back, not once complaining or protesting his undignified position. Sidon had been worried that he was in shock, or delirious, and once they'd reached the shore, Sidon had immediately checked Link for injury._

_To Sidon's shock, Link had not appeared to be bleeding from anywhere. Sidon knew he had detected a considerable amount of his blood in the water; enough that whatever wounds that caused it should have still been obviously apparent. He'd then checked Link for water inhalation, however Link's calm, measured breathing had dismissed that possibility outright._

_Sidon had been witness to sentients unfortunate enough not to be blessed with gills drowning. It was a horrible, haunting sight that left him feeling sick to his stomach. To a Zora, water was home, was safe, was natural. Witnessing the hard way that other races and animals did not hold similar opinions was an eye-opening revelation._

_As a child, Sidon could not fathom how others could not view water the way the Zora did. Then, he'd seen the corpse of an Hylian man dragged out of the Zora river, skin bloated, eyes bulging. Not long after that, he'd seen another Hylian struggling in the waters of the Domain, panicking, flailing, before being rescued by a member of the Royal Guard. Even after being saved, they'd continued hacking and coughing, sputtering, eyes wild with terror, flailing in frantic fear, until they had finally, finally managed to expel the water from their lungs, after several painful, harrowing minutes._

_Sidon believed he could begin to understand better after that._

_The fact that Link had not inhaled water was a relief to Sidon. That coupled with his lack of injuries had practically ensured that he would be fine, to Sidon's naked relief. However, it had left Sidon utterly bamboozled as to what insane concoction of circumstances could have led Link into his current position._

_Given that it was Link, it was almost guaranteed to be nigh-unbelievably stupid._

_Sidon wasn't disappointed. Or rather he was, at Link, but not at the story._

_Apparently Link had decided to climb Ploymus Mountain, and had forgotten that there was a Lynel in residence there. Or, as Link had insisted, he hadn't forgotten, but he had forgotten that there had been a Blood Moon since the last time he'd slain it. Regardless, the Lynel had managed to ambush him, and, in his panic, he'd accidentally managed to freeze it with his Sheikah Slate._

_Sidon had been unaware that the Slate even possessed such a function. Going by Link's description of the 'Stasis Rune', it left him highly uncomfortable. He wondered if such a function could be used on a person. He did not see why it couldn't. The possibility left him rather disquieted._

_Then, after he'd frozen the Lynel, mid-charge, Link had been struck with inspiration: He'd wanted to test whether Shatterback Point was worthy of its name._

_So, naturally, he'd 'imparted kinetic energy' to the still-frozen Lynel (and Sidon couldn't repress his guffaw at the way Link had so formally defined what he assumed to be Link beating the metaphysical shit out of the immobile monster) and when Stasis ended, the Lynel was sent careening over the cliff's edge to the reservoir, hundreds of metres below._

_That alone would have been deranged enough, however Link was fond of going the extra mile._

_In order to test his hypothesis, he had to be around to collect the results of his experiment, in his own words. Logically, this meant that Link had to be at the surface of the lake, when the Lynel hit the water. In order to keep up with the Lynel's free-fall, he'd deigned to leap after it to observe the impact._

_He'd downplayed Sidon's worries about blood loss, saying that the Lynel had managed to open a shallow, but bloody wound that he had already healed with an elixir. Sidon hadn't really known what to make of his story, but Link seemed to be just fine, and in a humorous mood, so he hadn't wished to press._

_He'd wanted to reprimand Link for his foolish behaviour, but Link had firmly shut him down by telling him that he wasn't in any real danger. Sidon had then expressed worry about Link not being able to make it back to shore and drowning in the reservoir, however Link had simply rebuked him by reminding Sidon of the Slate's ability to teleport him to safety._

_Sidon had felt extremely foolish after that, especially after the panic and fuss he'd been through. Link had seemed to notice however, and before Sidon could even fathom apologising or embarrassment, Link had firmly thanked him for his concern, declaring that it touched him, and thanked him again for doing the right thing, and 'rescuing' him. His words were said in good spirits._

_''After all,'' he'd said, ''How many people can say that they've rescued the 'Hero of Hyrule'?''._

_Sidon had laughed at that, even though secretly he was very partial to the idea of saving Link when he'd been at his most vulnerable, so he'd assented to Link's reassurances._

_Despite that, Sidon had been rather concerned by Link's abrupt mood swing. He was confident that he hadn't imagined the tears or the rawness in Link's eyes after he found him, but was reluctant to break Link's newfound cheer._

_He'd later asked his father, in private, as to what the pale blue glow he'd seen on Link, and the voice he thought he'd heard could mean. Dorephan had openly gaped at Sidon for an uncomfortably long time, shock and astonishment plain to see, before great, fat tears had begun to well in his eyes, though they resolutely did not fall. When he finally spoke, he didn't reply to Sidon, nor give him the answer he was looking for._

_He'd merely given a distant stare, beyond Sidon, towards the mountain where Vah Ruta had taken residence._

_''So, he was being truthful, after all.'' Dorephan had muttered._

_The seemingly unrelated comment had confused Sidon somewhat; he'd immediately demanded answers to his father's non-sequitur._

_''Who was being truthful, and about what?'' Though perhaps he could guess._

_His father had only smiled, eyes still far away._

_''They are united now.''_

Sidon's mind snapped back to the present with a jolt. It seemed that his start jerked Link out of his own recollections, as the haze cleared from his eyes, which then met Sidon's again, with remarkable clarity, and intensity.

Truthfully, Sidon was incredibly flattered by the implicit trust Link had; the faith that Sidon would rescue him, if he so needed it. He tried, and failed, to suppress the warm giddiness that he felt at Link's words, although if the indulgent, amused smirk Link sent at him was any indication, he'd failed quite miserably.

Still smirking at him, Link resumed talking, basking in the easy camaraderie they shared.

''So, what brings you out here, my friend?''

Link seemed happy to take the distraction for what it was, as he fully shifted his attention towards Sidon, and his response.

Sidon hesitated, before answering. He was reminded of the depressing pattern he'd noticed in Link's recent behaviour; his tendency to look at Sidon, and see the ghost of his sister in his place. It always passed before too long, but there was always that one moment in their conversations where the quiet grief that now perpetually surrounded Link rose to an howling crescendo, before being forcefully crushed by Link's iron will.

A somewhat undisciplined, selfish side of Sidon thought that that was unfair. However, unflattering comparisons to his sister were nothing new to the Prince, and Link always tried so hard to not let their shared loss poison their relationship. Sidon could never blame Link for his pain.

Besides, Link was always so earnest with Sidon, and had admitted (to Sidon's internal delight) that he greatly enjoyed spending time with him. Link did not try to goddesses forbid _replace_ Mipha with him, or see him as a surrogate for his late sister, but rather he appreciated Sidon for who he was. However, just as Sidon knew that he would never escape his sister's long shadow, he would never be able to look at Link without that reflection of pain staring back at him.

Although time may dull the pain, and the duration of episodes would decrease, Link would never be able to look upon Sidon, without seeing the shade of what he had lost. Of _whom_ he had lost.

Sidon _knew_ that. And by Lord Jabu-Jabu, he tried to accept it.

It was this reasoning that led Sidon to be conservative with the truth; a skill beyond compulsory for any politician. After all, what Link did not know would not hurt him, and, truth be told, Link could probably do with _not_ being reminded of his dearest friend at the current moment.

''Why, do I _need_ a specific reason to...'' he stumbled in his speech. His hands flailed, gesturing to the quaint beauty of the nature surrounding them. Link looked faintly amused at Sidon's difficulty.

Finally finding his voice, Sidon continued, somewhat abashed. ''It is indeed a beautiful view.'' He conceded.

Link smiled, and gave an concurring hum, turning to the horizon once again. Sidon approached Link again, to stand at his side, and look upon the sea together.

For a moment, the only sound was the whistling of the sea breeze, until Link's soft voice once again reached up to caress Sidon's ears.

''And it's made even better, by having you here to enjoy it with.'' Link let out another heaving sigh, this one seemingly lighter.

Sidon was flattered by Link's remark, although instinct told him that Link was far more wistful than his words would have indicated...

As if egged on by an invisible prompt, Link sighed again, the invisible weight resettling on his shoulders like a cursed shawl, before turning back towards Sidon, then thinking better of it, and averting his gaze to the horizon.

Sidon counted two more instances, where Link attempted to initiate a follow-up, before his words escaped him. It was oddly disquieting to witness; a sharp contrast from Link's usual purposeful nature. Still, Sidon did not hurry him. Link would surely be able to formulate his words without his prompting.

So engrossed in his own analysis of Link's uncharacteristic hesitance, Sidon almost missed when Link finally rediscovered his voice, before being startled out of his scrutiny by the sentence's contents.

''Mipha must have loved it out here, don't you think?''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid it's not going to get better for a long time, yet.
> 
> This is my impression on how Link would be feeling after the end of BotW, and I think that, given what he has lost, this level of depression is more than justified. Of course, I'd love to talk about what you guys think about this, however I understand that reading this one is going to be rather taxing.
> 
> On another note, I was so excited to present my interpretation of Sidon in this work. Him, and his relationship to Link and Mipha, were hugely important to me to describe.
> 
> Also, please let me know if there are any triggers you think I have forgotten to mention, and I'll remedy that as soon as possible.
> 
> As always, comments are hugely appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidon deals with Link's sorrow, and gains a new perspective on his dearest friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> Hyrule Warriors BotW Prequel was announced today.
> 
> Now, on the one hand, this is everything I've ever wanted, and I'm so, so excited.
> 
> On the other hand, watching Mipha die is literally going to kill me.
> 
> Probably made worse, given the topic of this chapter and entire fic.
> 
> I'm not okay.
> 
> This chapter references events that occur in _Siblings._

### Chapter 2

### 

Ah.

The very subject Sidon had been hoping to avoid.

Still, sometimes, in order to overcome pain, one had to face it head on.

It wasn't as if Link had been so indirect as to allow Sidon to deflect the conversation. Sidon blinked, then sighed; there was nothing for it now.

''Yes, I suppose she would have.'' Sidon agreed, slowly, gently. At his words, he could see Link's body sag momentarily as the depression washed over him, not unlike how the waves swept over the rocks far below their feet. Before Sidon could even blink, Link's posture was again rigid and unmoveable, like a rock, unbreakable and unyielding. Although, Sidon had to wonder just exactly how many times a rock could be battered by the waves until it eventually was ground down into sand.

''I'd often wondered what we'd do after Ganon had been defeated...'' Link continued, determinedly looking everywhere _except_ towards Sidon. ''After all, I'd promised to 'spend some time together'.'' He mimed air quotes with his fingers, and chuckled bitterly, wetly, as a sob, poorly disguised as a cough, hitched in his throat.

''I'd fantasised planning camping trips together throughout Lanayru and Akkala, spending days trying catch a glimpse of Naydra, and nights stargazing together, like we did above the Veiled Falls when we were younger...'' A sad smile flitted across Link's face, then fell away, like water running off the rocks. Sidon's heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

''I'd already decided that the _moment_ Ganon was dealt with, I was going to demand to be discharged there and then. It's hardly like Rhoam could have told me 'no', after all.'' Link huffed.

Sidon imagined not. After all, it's not as if the Hero would not have been granted his every desire for saving the kingdom. And if for some foolish reason, they attempted to coerce Link to remain in service, or worse, refused to accept his resignation, well...

Sidon would have liked to see them try. A smile reached his eyes as he considered the carnage.

''Then, after dumping that Sword back where I first found the cursed thing, I was going to go home, and perhaps get my first good night's rest since the day I found it.'' He broke off into a laugh.

''Well, I suppose I at least had _that_ particular wish fulfilled, eh? After all, when I woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, I felt _fantastic!_ '' He spat the word out with enough acid to poison the entire ocean before them, scorn dripping from his false cheer like venom from a Lizalfos' fangs. ''Who knew all I needed was one hundred years rest to really 'restock my larder'?''

Cutting his facetious tangent off with brutal sharpness, he wrenched his conversation back on topic.  
''And when I came home, and met with Mipha, and took her camping under the stars of Eastern Hyrule, I had resolved myself to formally and solemnly swear the rest of my life to her.'' Link ran his hand through his untamed locks, which seemed to shimmer and waver in the golden light of the sun, as if made out of threads of gold.

Sidon waited patiently for Link to elaborate, his breath captive in his lungs as his heart throbbed with sorrow for what could have been. Link seemed to be in an obliging mood.

''You see,'' he explained, ''At the time, I did not know of the Armour she'd crafted, nor did I know the true depth of her feelings for me. I'd certainly _hoped,_ mind you, but it truly wasn't my place to make such an advance on a Princess, a _Zora_ Princess, at that. Swearing my fealty and loyalty to her, _especially_ after demanding my discharge from Hyrule's service, would have done the job of expressing my true devotion and depths of my feelings without _actually_ outright stating it, you understand?''

Sidon didn't understand, not really. Having been raised in an age of desolation and ruin, the minutiae of Chivalry, and the Knight's Code of Honour were somewhat lost on him. Such abstract concepts had much less meaning when the society that enforced and upheld them no longer existed. 

Despite that, the sheer dedication that such an act entailed was obvious, being a proposal in all but name. Although, Sidon still found himself confused as to why Link simply wasn't 'allowed' to be honest with his feelings for his sister, having never paid much heed to the petty discriminations favoured by the high courtiers. 

He did not ask that question however, for he doubted he'd ever truly understand Link's archaic perspective on the matter. He also did not ask what Link would have done if his sister had not returned his feelings. He had _some_ tact, after all. Although, now he thought on it, if the Lady did not return the feelings, she could probably respectfully and politely decline the Knight's offer.

Not that that would have ever been the case between his sister and Link.

Grief and sorrow welled up in Sidon, once again. It had become rather repetitive, though that hardly made it any easier.

''Of course, I'd likely never have gotten that far. If things had been different...'' Link's breathing hitched sorrowfully, but he soldiered on, as he always had.  
''Well, I'm sure you've read her Diary?''

Indeed Sidon had, desperate to glean even an echo of the sister he'd cherished, the sister he'd lost, from the pages. He knew that Link was referring to her final entry, which detailed her resolve to offer the Armour to Link the day he and Zelda returned from Mount Lanayru.

The day Calamity Ganon had risen.

The day she had died.

Calling it a 'tragedy' seemed woefully inadequate.

Link seemed to think so too, if the tear-stricken chuckles were any indication.

''Instead,'' Link's chest heaved with monumental effort, as if he was trying to lift boulders with his chest alone, ''I led her to her death, and left her spirit to a century of torment, whilst I remained utterly unaware of her pain.''

Sidon grimaced at his words. Even trying to put aside the implications of his sister spending an entire century trapped in the Divine Beast she'd so adored, which had been so cruelly stolen from her after she was murdered in it, the sheer self-recrimination in Link's tone was visceral in its impact on both Link's posture, and Sidon's spirit. 

Unfortunately, Sidon knew no way to alleviate this pain. He wasn't sure if there even was a way to do so. One may have thought that destroying Ganon and avenging his sister may have begun to do so, however since his ultimate victory, Link had only been left feeling hollow; his all-consuming rage giving way to grief and emptiness.

''And, worse than that, I somehow managed to forget her completely!'' Link hiccuped and sobbed at the same time. The result was an ugly noise, one Sidon never wished to hear again. It reminded him far too much of that drowning Hylian. A pang of vicious protectiveness raced through his chest as he was unwillingly accosted by an image of Link drowning, sputtering and struggling in bottomless waters, before he banished it back to his subconscious. 

Link continued, unfettered by Sidon's nightmarish fantasy. ''I managed to forget everything, in fact, but knowing now how important she was to me, I find that the most painful loss...''

Sidon was left somewhat lost. Link's amnesia had been a rather touchy subject since the day he'd staggered, half-drowned into the Domain. Having met people that remembered him, had grown up with him, and were still in the prime of their lives, had been deeply unsettling to both parties at first. With time restoring some of his memories, that discomfort had transformed into a desperate desire to reconnect with the past, but for a long time there had been an invisible barrier between the Link the Zora remembered and the Link in front of them in the present. 

Nevertheless, Sidon at least tried to offer support.

''It's not as if you can be blamed for the Shrine taking your memories, my friend.'' Sidon soothed.

If the loud scoff was indicative, Link clearly believed otherwise. Sidon sighed. He likely blamed himself for having to be placed in the Shrine in the first place.

''Besides, at least they have been restored to you, at least in part.'' Sidon offered cheerfully. He tried to inject his bright optimism into his words, in an attempt at lifting Link's moods, but he found himself sadly unable to imbue his words with his usual exuberance.

Link sniffed, violently. Several times. He replied, seemingly somewhat ignorant of Sidon's attempts of absolution.

''Y'know, Sidon,'' he chuckled again. ''When I first awoke on the Great Plateau, there was _nothing_ I wanted more than to recover my memories, to learn who I was, and what my place was in all of this. That desire followed me through Kakariko and into the Domain. Even hearing of the fall of the Kingdom, and the Champions who had fallen in Ganon's wake didn't deter me from my desperate desire to _know._ ''

''However when I first gazed upon Mipha's statue, the magnitude of what I had forgotten finally, _finally_ hit me. The Champions transformed from abstract concepts I'd barely acknowledged to real, visceral people, with hopes, dreams, fears and personalities the same as anyone else. In the time since then, having regained more memories, there have been moments, awful, terrible moments, where I wished I'd never remembered a thing, and remained that blissfully naïve fool who gallivanted around the Plateau so carefree...''

Sidon gasped. Dread and a hint of doubt welled up in Sidon's stomach at Link's expression. He couldn't mean that...

Could he?

''It would certainly be _kinder._ '' Link snarled, then deflated with a prolonged wheeze, tension escaping like air from an empty waterskin being squeezed.  
''Of course, I hate myself for it. The fact that I've lived without knowing what Mipha was to me is beyond horrifying. The idea of returning to that state is utterly _abhorrent..._ '' Link glanced down, and away, scuffing his feet in a moment of self-loathing self-pity.

''But still, I find myself unable to bear the pain of knowing, but unable to stomach the idea of _not_ knowing.''

Link laughed. Long and hysterically, before cutting himself off abruptly, with a forceful jolt, and an undignified sniff.

''I suppose you can see my conundrum.'' He stated, flatly.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sidon could, in fact, see Link's so-called 'conundrum'. He empathised with the small Hylian deeply.

Sidon could not imagine being forced to forget everyone and everything he'd ever known, ever loved. He'd once promised his father, with all of the solemnity the Crown Prince could muster, that he would keep Mipha's memory alive for as long as he lived; that the Zora _would not_ forget Princess Mipha. Not during the reign of Dorephan, nor Sidon.

So, being forced to forget the precious few memories he had of her, to break his promise to his father, being forced to break the promise he made to Mipha _herself,_ his promise to protect their home in the event she could not... 

Sidon couldn't help but shudder.

Furthermore, Sidon would be forced to forget his family, and the fact that he'd even _made_ such promises in the first place. Not to mention forgetting everyone and everything else, including Link, himself.

Sidon tried to imagine losing all of his memories, then waking up a century later, to an unfamiliar, unforgiving world, then being told he was its only hope for salvation. He found himself completely incapable of processing such a scenario, the pressure that it entailed. His mind wanted to reject the situation outright, rather than suffer the cruelness of it.

But that was the reality that Link had lived. Perhaps to one so burdened, amnesia would be a gift, to ease the worries of a much too troubled soul? However, Link had then been forced to unearth all that had been buried by the Calamity, and, in doing so, unearth all that he had forgotten, and all that he had lost. In which case, the reprieve offered by the memory loss would be painfully fleeting, as he was once more crushed under his monumental burden.

It was not a fate that Sidon envied, certainly less one he'd ever dream of suffering.

Link seemed to have paused in his speech, content to let Sidon process what he'd revealed, content to drown in his own anguish for the time being. His back slumped as he turned away from Sidon, unable to face him for his own shame.

Link was aware that Mipha's absence was still wounding Sidon, and that his very presence was a physical reminder of his loss. He had never meant to expose Sidon to his own angst; no doubt Sidon had enough of that himself, no matter how well he disguised it. 

Everyone who lived in the aftermath of the Calamity had their own demons, especially those who had lived through Ganon's return, and witnessed the effects and aftermath first-hand. Link had not wished to add his own burdens to Sidon's. His sins, failures and regrets were his own to carry, and no one else's.

Sidon however, thought otherwise.

The large Zora squatted down, to bring his eye level closer to Link's, as a hesitant clawed hand descended onto Link's shoulder, gently brushing him with a tenderness that belied his imposing stature. It had become painfully obvious that Link had suffered, and was suffering, more than anyone could possibly believe, and more than one man could reasonably bear. Despite the fact that the source of Link's pain was also a source of much of Sidon's own sorrow, he wanted to make it explicitly clear to Link that he did not have to carry his burden alone.

There are those who say that 'a burden shared is a burden halved', and Sidon was more than willing to carry his share on his broad shoulders, the same way he had literally carried Link, before.

For is that not what one does for those they consider family?

Link leaned into Sidon's touch for a long moment, before suddenly stiffening, then jolting and attempting to distance himself, all but throwing Sidon's hand off of his shoulder in the process, to Sidon's hurt expression of shocked betrayal.

Link curled in on himself again, unwilling to acknowledge Sidon's silent plea, knowing that if he caught a glimpse of Sidon's torn expression, he'd have to feel his heart break once more, as he once again became a source of pain to someone he loved. Cursing himself silently, he wondered why he seemed to bestow pain to everything he met, either physically, to the monsters he'd slaughtered, or emotionally, to the people who'd been so unfortunate to become the ones he cared for.

He was a weapon. And a weapon's sole purpose was to inflict damage.

And he was remarkably good at it. Perhaps it was all he'd ever been good for...

So when Sidon tried again, more insistently this time, engulfing Link in his expansive arms, Link's only response was to shiver under the weight of his keening breaths.

He wondered how pathetic of a sight he made. Heroes were supposed to be invincible, unshakable and infallible, not crumble under the weight of their failures and trauma. _Link_ was supposed to be the one whose shoulders people wept upon, the one offering their condolences and quiet strength to support others in times of hardship and Calamity. Neither were heroes supposed to fail, to leave the land defenceless through their own inadequacy, to leave its inhabitants to fend for themselves as they slept, unaware even of the plight of those remaining few.

Heroes were not supposed to lead their comrades, their _friends,_ into a hopeless battle, a battle they should not have had to fight, then abandon them to their tragic fate, whilst themselves getting off practically scot-free, completely avoiding the consequences of their failure.

The 'Hero of Hyrule', reduced to a quivering, blubbering wreck. 

He did not deserve to be so highly lauded and praised for his feats, feats that only had to be undertaken because of the grievous _fuck ups_ of a century ago. He did not deserve the admiration of those the realm over for doing the _one thing_ he was supposed to do, had been _born to do._ Especially not after fucking it up so completely that most of Hyrule was left in ruins, its population and infrastructure devastated, still reeling more than one hundred years later.

If they saw him as he was now, then they'd all surely realise the truth; the inexorable truth:

He was a _failure._ A fraud. And a terrible 'hero'. One thoroughly undeserving of the title.

And when realisation dawned, when awe turned to false sympathy, then to hatred, what would be left for him?

He would surely be cast out. Unwelcome in any of the few remaining villages, unwelcome in the ancestral homes of the other races. Unworthy of honouring those blessed dead, and demonstrably incapable of shepherding in a new future for Hyrule. He would be chased away, perhaps at spear-point, exiled into the wilderness he had become so familiar with traversing, and he would be left with absolutely _nothing._

Which was _nothing_ less than he deserved, for his failure. 

And Sidon, dear, sweet Sidon. The tiny rambunctious Zora that Link had been so fond of, now grown into a striking, awe inspiring adult. Forced to grow up surrounded by hardship and toil, amidst the unjust loss of the kindest, most gentle soul to ever tread these lands, and despite that...

Link was simply in awe. Awe at the man who was such a _beacon_ of brightness in a world that had long since been consumed by the dark.

Link was beyond thankful for Sidon's support; more than Sidon would likely ever know. His bright cheer and optimism forcefully dragging Link forwards was one of the preciously few things that gave Link enough purpose to even rise from his bed in the mornings, first to fulfil his purpose, and especially now that his task was complete. 

Sidon had the most wondrous ability to _believe_ in a person. And when Sidon believed in you, it made you want to believe in yourself, even beyond what was reasonable, even beyond what most would deem _possible._

Link would not be exaggerating if he said that Sidon's capacity for hope and _belief_ was one of the critical factors in his success, and therefore one of the premier reasons Hyrule was now 'safe'.

He couldn't stand the mere idea of that wonderful, innocent hope and admiration in his sworn brother's eyes turning to disgust at him. If it ever did, he feared it would truly shatter him. 

What he simply could not understand was why. _Why it hadn't._

Link felt Sidon stiffen, as large, golden eyes turned down to meet his, shaming even the setting sun with their intensity. As Sidon's head cocked inquisitively, his head-fin twitching in what Link recognised as curiosity, it dawned on Link that he must have vocalised his question.

''Why what, my friend?'' Sidon asked, all concern and comfort, and it was so reminiscent of his sister that it _hurt._

Link glanced away. Not out of shock, nor horror, as one might expect, being engulfed by an enormous Zora, with their sharp claws and serrated fangs, but shame.

Truthfully speaking, there was nowhere Link had ever felt more safe than in the arms of the two Zora he'd loved. It felt impure of him to derive such comfort from Sidon, whom he'd wronged especially grievously with his failure, but Link could not muster the strength he needed to draw away. He cursed his weakness.

Maintaining his staring contest with the floor, Link shuffled with anxiety. Sidon didn't rush him, knowing by now that Link would either volunteer the explanation of his own volition or he would not, and no amount of pressure would cause him to crack.

Support, on the other hand, tended to yield far more favourable results.

''Why don't you hate me?'' Link whispered. 

Sidon almost leapt back, such was the magnitude of his shock. For a fleeting moment, he was unsure that he _hadn't_ become a victim of Urbosa's Fury, as his heart sputtered erratically and his limbs spasmed momentarily, his nervous system fried by phantom bolts of lightning.

Returning his attention to Link, who had still not averted his eyes from the floor, Sidon could only stare and gape. Link seemed to shrink in on himself again, and Sidon was left with such a feeling of _wrongness_ at the action. The dichotomy between the titanic figure he'd happened across and the diminutive, miserable heap that Link had transformed into was more jarring than a blow from a Hinox.

''I just don't understand,'' Link continued, pathetically, and Sidon nearly wept with sorrow. Link's watery azure eyes met Sidon's own, noting that Sidon's mouth was still hanging open in horror, but his impeccable teeth were still gleaming as they did in his signature grin.

An immature part of Link's mind commented that Sidon was, in fact, gaping _like a fish._

It brought no mirth from him, however. Banishing the facetious remark down to the depths of his psyche with disproportional force was oddly cathartic.

Startling back to himself, Sidon held Link's gaze for a long moment, watching the tears collect in his eyes, as Link's sclera were dyed as red as Sidon's own scales. He looked at the man who he'd sworn as his own brother, the man that his sister had fallen in love with and intended to _propose to,_ the man that had saved their entire homeland from the very incarnation of evil and Malice, and Sidon was filled with questions of his own.

''Link...'' Sidon started, excruciatingly slowly. ''What makes you think that I could _ever_ hate you?''

Link repressed a sob, drawing parallels with his own tendency to answer questions with questions that Rhoam had once called him out for. The earnestness in Sidon's gaze was heartbreaking. Link did not want to be the one to tell him, for he clearly hadn't realised it yet. Though he had already resolved himself to tell Sidon the truth, even if that meant he'd have to shatter Sidon's opinion of him. He couldn't bear to lie. Not now. Not to him.

He _had_ to know the truth.

They both did.

''...it's all my fault.'' Link whispered and Sidon blanched.

Sidon once again cursed Link's terrible tendency for self-recrimination. He _needed_ to put a stop to this, right now. For Link's sake.

''The damage wrought by the Calamity is most certainly _not_ your fault, Link.'' Sidon stated firmly, his tone harder than the luminous stone that comprised the Domain, and sharper than the steel the Zora forged their weapons from. Link didn't respond, except by shaking his head in vehement denial, and somehow burrowing deeper into Sidon's arms, if such a thing were even still possible.

''No, not that...'' Link replied, then caught himself, abashed. ''Not just that...'' he corrected. 

Sidon bit down on another curse, equally frustrated, exasperated and worried.

''It's just...'' Link continued slowly, hesitantly, as if weighing up the pros and cons of continuing.  
''...Mipha.'' he whimpered. Link hitched out another sob. He felt unworthy of even speaking her name, not after how terribly he'd failed her.

Sidon closed his eyes, and took a deep, measured breath. This would require a delicate touch.

Despite his appearance and general demeanour, Sidon was more astute than most gave him credit for. He was also capable of a finesse that shocked most people, in spite of his boisterous tendencies. He desperately hoped he'd be able to put those somewhat unknown skills to good use here.

Link's soul was practically screaming, _begging_ for forgiveness, all for a crime that he did not commit, actions for which he was not to blame. 

And Link was evidently unwilling to ever forgive himself.

Since Mipha's loss, all those years ago, a dark corner of Sidon's mind had supplied that insidious, traitorous thought: That Link was indeed to blame for the loss of his sister. That the Hylian Swordsman had stolen his sister away on a fool's errand, and was such at fault for her failure to return. 

It was a flawed and illogical argument, Sidon could recognise now, but that is all it had ever been: A child's desperate search for a simple explanation for a painful and complicated truth, a search for a scapegoat, for someone to pin the blame upon.

In several ways, it was easier to blame Link than Ganon itself. After all, no one blames Death Mountain for its lava, no one blames a storm for its lightning, or the snow for its cold. But a person, who'd infringed on what was rightfully _his,_ and caused it to be lost...

These horrible thoughts had resurfaced after Link's awakening, no matter how hard Sidon had tried to repress them. However, Link's return had dug deeply into a wound, left in Sidon. A wound that, after one hundred years, was finally starting to heal. Suddenly faced with the man from his memories, the _bastard that had stolen Mipha from him,_ Sidon had almost broken down.

It would be so, _so_ easy to blame Link.

But it would not be _fair. She_ wouldn't want him to hate the man she had loved.

Sidon supposed that he'd have to provide the absolution that Link was so unwilling to accept. Perhaps, coming from _him,_ it might make it through Link's thick skull.

''Link... you need to listen to me now.'' Sidon whispered, although his words were somewhat muffled by Link's untamed mop of hair, as he buried his face into the top of Link's scalp.  
''Mipha's death was Not. Your. Fault.'' He enunciated each word individually, punctuating each with a gentle tap to Link's head.

Link choked in response, keening with self-flagellating disbelief. ''Was it not? Really?'' Cynicism dripped from his words.

''No, it was not.'' Sidon confirmed, not rising to Link's tormented sarcasm. Link's ire was not aimed at him, that much he knew.  
''She...'' Sidon had to pause, as he acknowledged his own grief around the subject. ''She knew the risks, of the position she took. She knew that she was putting herself in harm's way, and she accepted that danger, in order to protect Hyrule, to... to protect _me._ '' Sidon tailed off into a whisper as he truly considered his sister's motivations for her decision for the first time.

It was remarkable how objective he could be when deconstructing his sorrow for another's sake, he mused. It allowed him a new perspective on the actions his sister had taken in becoming a Champion.

Having grown up, now being decades older than his sister had ever been before her untimely death, he found he understood and appreciated her decision far more than he had as a child. He also felt a newfound sense of respect for her, and her willingness to lay down her very life to protect him, their people and Hyrule itself from Ganon's evil. It was... oddly comforting and humbling, in spite of her tragedy.

Link was, sadly, utterly oblivious to Sidon's epiphany, continuing to despair in the nest he'd created out of Sidon's arms and torso. Sidon looked down at him again. He met a tear-stricken face, and a pair of glassy eyes, ready to shed many more.

''But she...'' Link heaved, and swallowed, ''She shouldn't have even been there.'' he wailed, and Sidon almost blanked out at Link's words.

A spike of anger rose in Sidon's gut, before he could even prepare to crush it down. Sidon _knew_ that Link had not intended his words as an insult to Mipha, and her capability to be a Champion, despite the way he'd worded his comment. It was rather evident that Link held quite the high opinion of his sister, and her abilities. However, Link's careless phrasing was a less than ideal way to make his point, whatever it might be.

And as Sidon analysed his words, he came up short. What was Link's point exactly? It was not as if there was anyone among the Zora who would have been better suited to her role, nor would Mipha have wanted anyone else to take the role that she could fulfil if it meant exposing them to danger they may not have been equipped or qualified to face.

Or perhaps... Sidon was shocked by the realisation, and how obvious it was: Link was merely aggrieved by the tragic outcome and expressing his grief in an unhealthy way, focusing on the possibilities, the could haves and should haves that were now lost to them.

Exactly as he, himself, once had.

After the next line Link uttered, Sidon was decidedly less inclined to control his anger:  
''She was only a Champion because she wanted to support me...'' Sorrow and self-blame dripped from his words, heedless of the offence he was committing against her character. 

Sidon would _not_ let that comment stand, not on his sister's honour. Despite knowing that Link's words were bourne of guilt, shame and sorrow, his viewpoint was incredibly self-centred, much like the blame he seemed to be attempting to hoard. Sidon fully intended to make that known.

''That is a _remarkably_ arrogant statement, Link.'' Sidon stated, tersely, and Link's eyes jolted upwards in shock. A distant part of him was almost cruelly pleased at Link's reaction.  
''And a blatantly untruthful one, I might add.''

Turning Link around to face him, and gripping Link's arms with his own, not hard enough to bruise, but too hard to ignore, Sidon continued his tirade. Sidon injected all of the imperious disdain he could manage into his voice, as he projected it into something that was not quite a shout, but commanded obedience and instilled a wary regard, bordering almost on _fear,_ in the listener.

Distantly, he was now grateful for Muzu's endlessly tedious lessons on decorum and etiquette. If nothing else, Sidon had become _very_ good at getting his point across. As Link seemed to be discovering.

''Princess Mipha became a Champion...'' Sidon started. For his own sake, he would have to maintain a professional distance and respect here, which was difficult, considering his more than professional relationship with her, his _sister,_ otherwise he'd probably devolve into his own tears before finishing, which would hardly be conducive to his persuasive abilities. 

Even so, referring to her so formally sat wrong on his tongue. To him, she was never 'Princess Mipha', never 'Lady Mipha', nor 'Your Highness'. She was just his big sister, Mipha. 'Mimi' if he was feeling affectionate, which was often.

No one else ever called her Mimi. 

Swallowing around that familiar, cloying tightness in his throat, Sidon continued.

''She became a Champion in order to protect _all of Hyrule_ from Ganon's wrath. Not just the Zora, not even just _me,_ '' Sidon hoped Link would pick up on the unsaid connotations of his emphasis there.  
''Or even _you,_ though those were undoubtedly large factors in her decision.'' He finished, and took a calming breath, praying to the spirit of the Wind Fish to give him the strength he needed to finish this conversation.

''Naturally, she wanted to support you, Link. For Nayru's sake, she _loved_ you.'' Sidon sighed. Link sobbed at that, his first indication that he was listening to Sidon's words, and digesting their meaning. He'd been uncomfortably still before him, before that.  
''She also loved _me._ '' Sidon felt relieved by the admission, even though he'd never, never doubted that. Though his conviction had led to such pain, on many sleepless, lonely nights. After all, if she'd loved him so much, then why didn't she come home?

It was a sad, sobering day when Sidon realised that that simply wasn't how the world worked; how no matter how much you loved someone, or wanted to do something, there would always be things outside of your power.

And Sidon did not doubt that she had done everything in her power to return to them.

''But there was more to her decision than just that.'' Sidon breathed, matching Link's own heaving inhalations. It's all he still seemed capable of doing, in the face of Sidon's ire.

''Mipha would have still made that decision if you hadn't been a Champion, if I hadn't been born even. Because that was simply her _nature._ She was a healer, and a protector, and in taking her position, she could fulfil those roles. And...'' Sidon paused again.  
''She _knew_ that she was the most qualified person to take the position, the one most likely to succeed. Therefore, she would never send another in her place.''

Those words hurt both of them, for obvious reasons. Still, Sidon's logic was undeniable. By any and all measures, she _was_ the best person for the job. Even before completing her Trials, she was known to be peerless with her spear, acute of mind, and possessed an almost miraculous ability to heal others and herself from even _lethal_ wounds, and a boundless capacity for compassion and empathy to match.

~~And, it _hadn't been enough._~~

''You do her a disservice, by thinking she was so shallow, Link.'' Sidon chided, and Link _did_ startle at that, denial rising and falling in the moment between breaths, before a horrible realisation dawned on his face, and his expression fell back into weary grief.

Seeing his expression, Sidon's anger, which had previously been a roiling, writhing riptide, sucking up rational thought into an emotional tempest, broke like a wave crest, collapsing onto the sand of the beach, before slinking back into the confines of the ocean's embrace. 

The offence he'd caused had not been from malice, but rather ignorance. Link had never intended to offend Sidon, to offend Mipha's memory, although that did not excuse him from the insult caused by his carelessness.

Still, having realised the implications of his words, words bourne of his own pain, and Link's disturbing need to punish himself, Sidon felt reasonably assured that Link would not continue obsessing over _that_ particular argument. Not if the insult he caused to Sidon and Mipha, and any other Zora that once knew her, outweighed his own self-obsessed guilt.

Having been left without a response for too long, Link quietly fidgeted away from Sidon, before collapsing in on himself like a Guardian whose power core failed. He tumbled to the ground in a sprawl of limbs that defiantly refused to accept his brain's commands, their only concession being to draw his knees underneath his chin, as he tucked himself into a pathetic ball, rocking himself in a futile attempt to ward away his demons.

Sidon flinched at Link's inelegant collapse, but hesitated to approach him again. He hadn't really known what to do next, after Link hadn't responded to his firm correction, and this uncertainty followed through to him now. He'd deigned to allow Link to retreat, thinking he might need space, given Sidon's chastisement, to reflect on what Sidon had told him. However Sidon had not expected him to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut.

He'd been prepared to wait for a minute, and allow Link some time to recompose himself, but looking at him now...

Seeing Link so fragile, so _broken..._

Sidon had once thought that not even a glacier could move Link. That he could stare down the worst nature could throw at him, or even the gods themselves, and not retreat even an inch unless he so chose to. He was implacable, immovable, and _nothing_ either within this land, or outside of it, could stand up to his interminable determination.

When Sidon had seen Link with that quiet fury in his eyes, promising vengeance and death to the entity that had wronged them all so terribly, for a moment Sidon had known that he was no longer looking at a mere mortal, but rather a force of nature. Link had been a howling maelstrom, whose wrath would have never abated until Ganon had been ripped apart by his own hands, and its remains scattered to the corners of the earth. Within him, he distantly acknowledged, was the power to raze the entirety of Hyrule to the ground with more prejudice and precision than the Calamity could even _dream of._

But seeing him now, like this. So small, so _Hylian._

He was practically unrecognisable.

Yet, Sidon did not shy away. Most people would not be particularly happy, having their worst moments, their complete breakdown, broadcast for others to see, no matter how close they were. Some things were preferred to be kept private. Sidon doubted Link, with his insular tendencies, would be an exception to this trend.

But if there was one thing Sidon was certain of, it was that he was _not_ going to leave Link alone right now. Not even if Princess Zelda herself ordered him away, such was his recalcitrance. Not after seeing Link's despair, his apathy towards his own safety, his _pain._

Sidon would not leave Link to suffer alone.

From the spot on the ground where Link was feebly rocking himself, Sidon could barely make out a murmur. He strained his neck forwards in an attempt to decipher it, but alas, it was too faint, swamped out by the noise of the wind. Stepping closer, the words became clearer, until finally Sidon could understand what Link was saying.

Link was chanting a desperate mantra, under his breath. It was the same two words repeated, endlessly, as he fisted his hands in his own hair, to attempt to stifle their tremors:

'' _I'm sorry._ ''

Sidon lurched forwards, to embrace Link again, which sadly had no effect on Link's frantic incantation; a wretched endeavour to stifle his guilt and sorrow. All Sidon could do was hold him, and pray to whichever goddess was feeling merciful that he could get through to him, break him out of this decaying spiral.

Link's rapid, but constant, cadence was broken when names begun being added to the end of each apology. Link said many names, many of which Sidon recognised, belonging to Zora of the Domain, but many more he did not. Perhaps these were the names of other people Link had known before the Calamity, who were now sadly gone?

Of course, the Princess, and all four Champions' names were in his list of apologies. Sidon listened to Link beg his apologies to each in turn, silent tears in his own eyes, before the final name on his list shook him out of his silence.

'' _I'm sorry, Sidon._ '' Link whispered, eyes far away.

Sidon squeezed him tighter, before worrying that he'd crush Link's ribs under the strain and forcibly relaxing his arms. He felt so painfully brittle beneath him, yet Sidon knew he'd truly never forgive _himself_ if he were the one to break Link. Link barely seemed to notice Sidon's blunder, still trapped in his own disturbed grief, hardly even wheezing at the pressure differentials on his chest.

''I...I'm sorry. Sidon, I...'' Link hiccuped ''I...''

Sidon desperately hushed Link, unwilling to bear listening to those broken words for even one more repetition. ''Link...'' Sidon murmured, stricken.

''I'm sorry. I'm so, so s-sorry.'' Link hitched, flinching under his own weight.

''Link...'' Sidon uttered. ''It's okay.'' Scoffing in disbelief at his own lie, he coughed. No, it clearly was not 'okay' and likely never would be again. But what else could Sidon say?

Link seemed to see right through Sidon's white lie. Well, then. He supposed he'd have to be honest, instead.  
''I forgive you, Link.'' Sidon breathed, slowly.

Link's shaking intensified, violently, until his entire body was wracked with shudders.  
''No,'' he denied. ''After w-what I did...'' he exhaled, hollowly.

''I rather think that _I_ am the only one who can decide whether or not I forgive you, and I choose to do so.'' Sidon replied smugly, though his words were not filled with any humour, or glib superiority.

''I don't deserve it.'' Link heaved. Internally, he was almost proud at just how measured that sentence was, managing to say it without stuttering once, despite the herd of great-horned-rhinoceros that had seemingly taken up residence on his chest.  
''I-...'' ah, that was where his stutter had gone. Link cursed.  
''I'm sorry.'' He tried again, however it came out lamely, his exhaustion weighing down each word.

Sidon sighed, again, resigned. He was becoming rather tired of sighing, in all honesty. Or perhaps sighing was making him tired?  
''Why are you apologising to me, Link?'' Of course, Sidon knew the answer, and Link knew the answer, and _Link knew that Sidon knew_ the answer, and Sidon knew _that,_ and so forth on to infinity, but Sidon also knew that he needed Link to say it out loud, if he were to absolve him.

Link paused for a long time. So long, in fact, that Sidon was afraid that he wouldn't answer at all, but before he could intervene, and answer the less-than-rhetorical question himself, Link spoke up.

'Speaking up' was quite the exaggeration, Sidon thought, given that Link's voice was somehow less than a whisper.

''I'm sorry that I failed Mipha. I'm sorry that I couldn't bring her back to you.''

Sidon allowed himself a small smile. It wasn't happy, nor warm, but it was at least a start. Which was more promising than everything else they'd talked of this evening.

''I do not blame you, Link'' Sidon hummed. He hoped that the vibrations that echoed between their connected torsos would help his words penetrate the barriers Link had erected between his ear-drums and his brain.

His hope was, as usual, woefully too optimistic. He sighed again, deflating.

''I'm sorry, okay?'' Link's voice was louder now, clearer. Clearer than it had been for a decent while. That was not a good sign, Sidon realised. If Link's passion were to overwhelm him, then it would be nigh-impossible for Sidon's words to have any impact, for anything to penetrate the armour he'd erect. He needed to act fast, and decisively.

''I'm sorry I wasn't there with her, to fight off Ganon's Blight, to support her when she needed me the most. I'm sorry I couldn't protect her, _save her,_ the way she's saved me so, _so_ many times, repay her for any of the occasions when she's saved my miserable failure of a life, make good on the promise I made her on Ruta...'' Link tailed off, for he'd forgotten to draw breath. He realised that he was perhaps rambling, vomiting words at Sidon like he had after the ill-considered meal he'd made of Bokoblin guts, but he caught an elusive gulp of air, and continued.

''Link, I don't-'' Sidon was steamrollered by Link's growing momentum.

''I'm sorry I wasn't at her side, because I was too busy _dying in a field_ to protect the person I loved more than anything from being brutally murdered. I'm sorry I abandoned her to a century of torment, and suffering, as she languished, hopeless, in the aftermath of my failure, imprisoned by the very monster that slau-''

''I DO NOT BLAME YOU!'' Sidon's words rang out over the cliff face, startling a flock of sea birds from their lazy circles overhead, sending them fleeing to the safety provided by the ocean's open water.

Link's mouth, having since been shocked into silence, closed with an almost audible click.

''I do not blame you.'' Sidon repeated, feeling nauseated by Link's implication of the horror his sister had endured, even after her death. Dying was bad, yes, could be agonising, and slow, but death came for everyone, in the end. And death was supposed to be exactly that: an end. No matter how much you'd suffered, death was a release, an _escape..._

Ganon had seen fit to pervert even that natural law, it seemed. To deny that escape to his sister, and the other Champions...

Sidon did not think he had the capacity for the hatred he felt in that moment.

''Why?'' Link asked, small and afraid, as if Sidon would break him with his words alone. Had Sidon been a more vindictive person, it's entirely probable that he could do exactly that. The realisation almost caused Sidon to retch in disgust. He did not like the concept of holding that much power over anyone, least of all _Link._ The fleeting hope in his shining eyes that not even his own despair could truly crush was heartbreaking, and Sidon felt his fury at Ganon double, if it were even possible to double infinity.

''Because you are my brother, Link, and I love you.'' Sidon answered, and almost as if by magic, a veil was lifted between them, Link's eyes re-capturing Sidon's own with a newfound look of wonder, and _hope._ Sidon was internally gleeful that the shocked disbelief faded from Link's expression when he saw the seriousness in Sidon's gaze and tone, and realised that Sidon truly meant his words.

Sidon could have taken mock offence to that; he prided himself on his reputation for wholesome honesty. Sorrowfully, he recognised that now was certainly not the time for such mischievous behaviour. Not when Link's entire mental state seemed to be dangling from a single thread, poised to snap, plummeting into an infinite well.

''I do hope you didn't think you could disown me that easily?'' Sidon remarked, humorously. Deflecting Link's thoughts from his own issues of guilt and the inevitable abandonment he must have anticipated was likely a good plan here, even though Sidon's mind almost shrieked at the mere prospect.

Sidon still greatly admired Link, despite his breakdown. Whilst it had undoubtedly shattered some of Sidon's more outlandish concepts of Link as some unstoppable, unflappable half-deity, Sidon found that he much preferred to know that Link, for all of his skill, power and experience, was still just as mortal as the rest of them. And if from time to time Link needed to get his self-obsessed head out of his guilt-stricken arse, and see that not all of the woes that had befallen Hyrule could be traced back to his failures, then, well...

Sidon supposed that was what siblings were for.

''Besides,'' Sidon continued, picking up where he'd left off, unwilling to cede the momentum he'd stolen to the recuperating Hylian,  
''I have _no doubt,_ '' Sidon put heavy emphasis on his words, ''That you did _all you could,_ with every resource you had to hand.'' Sidon sighed _yet another_ time.  
''Therefore, I cannot blame you, Link.'' He closed his eyes, and took a calming breath, hoping that he wouldn't have to fight Link to force him to accept that, too.

To his genuine surprise, Link seemed to accept this, slumping down into Sidon's arms again, with a defeated sigh. Sidon let out a shaky exhale of air he did not realise he'd trapped in his lungs.

''It wasn't enough, though.'' was Link's devastated reply.

Sidon swore, though he tried valiantly to keep Link from hearing it. Muzu would have his tongue cut out if it ever made it back to him.

Just when he thought he was making progress, making a tiny step forwards, Link had to take an enormous leap backwards.

Sidon caught himself, and his own aggravation. Link had a _lot_ of angst to work through. It would be unfair for Sidon to expect it would all suddenly vanish. Maybe Sidon could impart some advice here too: A lesson he'd learned slowly, over the course of his comparatively long life, but one that still seemed to trip him up, even today.

''No, perhaps not.'' Sidon conceded. ''But that doesn't change the fact that you _tried,_ Link. And that does matter, I promise you.''

Link sniffed pitifully. He didn't see fit to grace Sidon with a verbal response, though his body language plainly spoke of the sorrow that he felt.

''You are right, of course.'' Sidon smiled wistfully. ''What happened was awful, what happened to Mipha especially so.'' Sidon could only hope that her spirit could now find some modicum of peace, now that her duty had been fulfilled.

But that didn't change the fact that he missed her still.

''I know you miss her, Link, and I'm afraid it's very probable that you will never stop missing her. Nayru knows I haven't.'' Sidon chuckled weakly, trying to drown out the soul-wrenching noise of Link's hitched breath.

''But this...'' Sidon was not so foolish as to try and invoke Mipha's memory here. Saying what she 'would have wanted' had never alleviated any of his own grief, in fact it only stoked his ire. Hypothesising what another person would want was ultimately pointless if they _weren't_ here to say so themselves.

''You've suffered greatly, Link. That much is obvious to anyone who knows you.'' Sidon pointed out, hoping that his frank words would find purchase.  
''The fact that this has left you in pain...'' Sidon struggled to articulate his meaning. He eventually abandoned this tangent for a far more direct statement.  
''It doesn't have to be alright:  
It's okay to _not be okay,_ Link.''

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was truly amazing, Link thought, at how foolish Sidon could make him feel with only a single line of dialogue.

All his life, he'd tried to internalise his feelings and emotions, leave nary a chip, nor weakness in the shields he erected around himself. Even after his resurrection, with him taking far fewer liberties over his emotional control, he still kept up a wary distance between himself and all those he interacted with. 

Perhaps it was fear, for himself or others, or perhaps it was a different reason entirely. Link had never bothered with the introspection he'd require to sort through it, being so focussed on his critical task (or whatever puerile distraction currently occupied his mind).

Sidon had effectively given him permission to embrace what he was feeling; all of the awful, tearing pain he was the warden of. To let it go, out into the world, rather than keep it locked away inside of himself as he had for so, _so_ long...

Knights were not allowed that luxury. Neither were 'chosen heroes'.

But then, Link realised belatedly, he was _neither_ of those things anymore.

_If he ever truly was, to begin with._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidon is too fucking precious and pure.
> 
> I felt it important to point out that Sidon offers Link the same absolution here that Link offers Zelda in _The New Champions,_ which is likely the only reason Link begrudgingly accepts it.
> 
> He does sigh a lot, though. Should probably rename him to _Sigh_ don.
> 
> ...ok, yeah. I'll go.
> 
> Comments are always welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night falls on Akkala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry this is a day late. This chapter was a bit stubborn. 
> 
> It's also a short one, but fear not: I should be back on my regular upload schedule, which means the next chapter should go up tomorrow.

### Chapter 3

### 

Sidon did not know how long Link had been ensconced in his embrace, but if the progression of the Sun along the ecliptic was any indication, it had probably been a decent while.

'Time waits for no man,' Sidon noted, drily. 'Indeed, the world spins on.'

Throughout their encounter, the Sun had kept up its relentless march across the heavens, leaving evening to settle into twilight, then night proper in its absence. Since its graceful descent behind the Gerudo Highlands to the west, the Eastern Akkala coast had been bathed in the inky hues of night time.

The ocean before them now appeared as an infinite sheet of oil, foreboding in its utter blackness. Sidon did not normally keep tabs on the Lunar Cycle; it was hardly necessary anymore, since the end of the Blood Moons, but he knew that tonight was going to birth a New Moon. As such, the sky was going to be as tenebrous as it ever would get, only lit by the feeble, yet defiant, twinkling of distant stars.

Under such a moonless night, the ocean looked more like a yawning chasm; waiting to swallow up anything so unfortunate as to fall in. The horizon seemed to blur into obscurity, leaving him unsure as to where the ocean ended and the sky began. Locking his gaze with the now _truly_ infinite abyss, Sidon shivered.

He wasn't entirely sure it was due to the night's chill.

Although, he was not sure that it _wasn't_ due to the frigidity of the night, either. The Sea Breeze had quite the sharp nip that Sidon could feel even through his scales.

And, if Sidon was noticing it, then he didn't want to presume how it must be making Link feel. 

The Zora had a much greater tolerance for cold than Hylians; a result of their heterothermic biology. This had likely manifested from being a primarily aquatic dwelling species, which mandated their lack of clothing; it was, after all, somewhat challenging to create a campfire underwater. And whilst Sidon was aware that Link possessed clothing and enchanted charms to ward off the cold, he was not wearing any of them. 

Link still hadn't moved. Sidon would have mistaken him for being asleep, if not for the gentle trembles that periodically propagated through him.

Regardless, by any reasonable measure, it was past time they set up camp.

Rising to his feet, he unwittingly hauled Link into the air when the small Hylian defiantly refused to loosen his grip around Sidon's shoulders. Gently removing Link's fingers, then depositing him on the ground with more care than he'd shown for the Zora Crown Jewels, Sidon simply remarked:

''We need to establish a campfire. And I do not know of your condition, but I haven't eaten since before noon, and I'm feeling rather famished.''

As if on cue, Sidon was answered by a prolonged gurgle, originating from Link's stomach. Sidon chuffed at that; the only thing Link was more infamous for than recklessness was his gluttonous appetite.

A flush of heat ran to Link's cheeks at the noise, though, if Sidon had tried to press him, he was reasonably sure he could blame it on the wind's bite. Unfortunately, he saw the logic behind Sidon's statement, and quietly trudged back to his abandoned supplies. He'd packed quite extensively, after all, so he'd have more than sufficient resources to whip up something for the both of them.

Unfortunately, without the slate, his ingredients wouldn't be as fresh as he would have liked, but he'd taken adequate measures to preserve the food, so he was more than ready to make do.

Sidon wandered up behind him, and attempted to peer over Link's shoulder into his pack. He'd retrieved his own emergency rations of fish jerky from his supplies, but curiosity and an intriguing aroma had drawn him towards Link.

''Do you have a preference?'' Link asked, holding three distinctive kippers behind him, as he dug further into his highly disorganised stuff.

He _really_ regretted leaving the Slate with Zelda.

Sidon wasn't sure what he was looking at. Well, _obviously,_ they were all fish, however they had been treated in ways he was unfamiliar with, and, as such, he did not recognise them. He remembered his expedition to Lurelin Village; the people there had methods of preserving their catches by exposing the fish to the smoke of a fire. However the Zora had never had need to employ such practices, preferring to eat their fish raw, only preserving them in ice or salt (for emergencies). A fact Sidon knew Link was familiar with.

Link seemed to catch himself, as he winced with a reproachful chuckle. ''Ah, of course.'' he said.  
''Well, you've got the choice between smoked salmon, bass or trout.''

Sidon hesitated. He wasn't sure if any of the options would be particularly appealing. It was certainly far beyond his comfort zone, to say the least. Although...

He'd already accepted that he wouldn't be able to hunt for a fresh catch tonight. Not with how remiss he was to leave Link alone. As such, he'd resigned himself to a night of fish jerky. It wasn't that he _disliked_ the oversaturated stuff, but it was a poor substitute to a fresh fish, and it sadly came without any of the thrill of the hunt. Sidon liked to keep himself sharp.

But perhaps... if Link was offering to cook Sidon food, it would be remarkably rude of him to outright reject it. Whilst Sidon knew Link well enough that he'd never have to fear causing a diplomatic incident by offending him, he still thought that he had a decorum to uphold. Muzu's efforts were not entirely a fruitless endeavour, he supposed.

He'd probably weep with joy to hear Sidon admit that willingly.

And besides, maybe Link would be able to surprise him. After all, the Hylian Princess could not stop singing his praises as a chef.

And, if the worst came to the worst, well... 

He still had his jerky.

Link had also retrieved a stack of kindling from his pack, and he set about creating a fire pit, sweeping away offending objects from his dedicated space with the ease of a practised camper. Sidon was exceedingly relieved at that. After all, if Link had showed such preparation in planning this outing, it was unlikely that he was actively suicidal, despite his... _tenuous_ mental state.

Sidon did not want to think of Link dying, and being forced to go back to life without Link. Especially not after getting to know him as well as he had.

Noting a lack of flint, Sidon moved to grab a stick. Starting fires using friction alone was rather primitive, but Sidon would make do, albeit reluctantly. He smirked. Perhaps Link wasn't as prepared as Sidon had assumed.

Link glanced over. ''No need.'' He remarked, and returned the stick to the pile he had assembled.

With a bemused twitch of his dorsal fin, Sidon looked over, only to see Link produce a _fire arrow_ from his clothes, and summarily toss it into the wood with extreme nonchalance. The dry twigs instantly ignited under the arrow's magic, and suddenly the fire roared to life. The initial back-draft of heated air blew into Sidon's face, causing him to wince and instinctively retreat. He heard Link chuckle at his misfortune. The impish bastard.

''A fire arrow,'' Sidon asked. ''Really?''

Enchanted and elemental arrows were rare commodities: Scarce, and extremely powerful, and therefore highly sought after. If you were fortunate enough to come across a merchant who dealt in them, the almost exorbitant price they would charge only further inflated their value. Nayru knows the Zora didn't have enough shock arrows to deal with Ruta, their vulnerability to electricity notwithstanding.

Although, having to send Link after a Lynel in order to acquire more was a bit... _harsh._

It made for a good trial by fire though, he supposed. Frankly, he was just glad that they'd sent no one else after it before Link. If they had, their deaths would have been on his conscience, and that was something he'd rather avoid.

''Eh, I have more.'' Link shrugged casually. Perturbed, Sidon supposed he'd leave it at that.  
''You still haven't told me which one you'd like.'' Link reminded.

His curiosity piqued, Sidon returned his attention to the proffered fillets.

Realising he was dawdling, Sidon made a snap decision, lest Link be forced to make one for him. That would be mortifying.

''I suppose I'll try the salmon.'' he smiled. His smile dimmed when he noticed the forlorn smile that flitted over Link's features, before he shook it away venomously, grimacing all the while.

Oh. Of course. Sidon wanted to kick himself again.

Salmon had been Mipha's favourite fish. He pointedly wondered if Link had ever prepared smoked salmon for her.

Noticing Sidon's frustration, Link held a hand out to placate him. ''I'm sorry, I kinda walked into that one.'' he almost groaned, and Sidon felt his tension dissipate under his touch.  
''I guess I'll have the bass, then.'' he continued forcibly lightening his tone. Sidon smiled wanly.

Drawing another stick from goddesses knew where, this one arduously sharpened to a fine point, Link speared both kippers with one thrust, then handed the stick to Sidon, who accepted before realising what his hands were doing. Upon registering his occupied hands, he turned back to Link with a dumbfounded expression; he didn't know the first thing about roasting fish over a fire.

Link was supposed to be the chef here, not him.

A teasing, arched eyebrow was his only response, before Link took pity on the stricken Zora.

''Just hold it about that high, and keep turning it slowly.'' Link smiled, and Sidon relaxed. He could surely accomplish such a simple task, especially if Link was the one guiding him, and set to work with an unfounded gusto.

Link exhaled, his eyes crinkling in warm pleasure, before summoning some bread from apparently nothing. Had Sidon been a less refined Zora, or perhaps just less used to Link's antics, he would have done a double take. He _really_ needed to keep a better eye on Link.

Sidon wondered whether the Sheikah would care if they knew that Link was abusing their esoteric skills for simple mischief and shenanigans, but, by Farore, was he sneaky when he wanted to be. He'd startled Sidon enough times for him to consider that Link was not doing it entirely accidentally.

Handing a chunk of bread to Sidon, they continued to sit in a companionable silence, only broken by the crackling of the fire, until Link suddenly declared that the fish were done cooking. He almost _yanked_ the stick back from Sidon, before removing his own fish, leaving Sidon with a skewered kipper. Around the bread he'd sandwiched his fish in, Link solemnly advised Sidon to allow it a moment to cool, before immediately devouring his own with fervour.

Sidon was left somewhat bewildered by Link's blatant hypocrisy, but decided to heed his warning, shooting Link a glance that was equally fascinated and disturbed.

Sandwiching his own fish with the bread he was given to avoid burning his hands, Sidon chanced another look at Link. Somehow, he'd already finished his entire meal. Sidon blinked. That was _not_ a small fillet, especially compared to the relative size of Link's mouth. Had he even chewed _once?_

Link must have felt Sidon's incredulous gaze upon him, for he turned to look at the large Zora.

''What?'' He asked, innocently. There was a spark in his eyes, however, that rather gave the game away, which Sidon found disproportionally gratifying. Link's eyes had been devoid of seemingly everything, barring despair, that evening, so to see even a shadow of the man he'd come to adore brought him no small amount of pleasure. The fact that Link was still present, needling Sidon with quirky humour, despite the angst he was suffering, left Sidon feeling at least partially optimistic with regards to him eventually recovering.

Sidon still adamantly refused to imagine an alternative.

Shaking his head, causing his long head fin to sway cumbersomely, Sidon smirked back at Link, not at all fooled by his facade. Bringing his own food to his mouth, he took a tentative bite.

The flavour was... interesting, though hardly unpleasant. Sidon noticed that the bones of the fish had all been removed with what must have been painstaking effort. 

That was a shame, but he hadn't expected anything different from his Hylian chef.

Sadly, all too soon, the fish and bread were gone. He was still somewhat hungry, but he supposed it would tide him over. He resolved himself to try smoked fish again in the future...

''It's no gourmet meal, but I hope it was satisfactory.'' Link remarked. Sidon wordlessly nodded, as the manners that had been drilled into him from birth demanded him, since he was still chewing his food. Like a _civilised_ person.

The goddesses had given the Zora teeth, and he was going to use them for their intended purpose.

''I can cook the other one for you, if you want it.'' Link offered. ''You still seem rather hungry.''

Swallowing the last remnants of his meal with an exaggerated gulp, Sidon airily replied:  
''You, passing up food? Do I need to be concerned?'' Link scoffed good-naturedly.  
''I think everyone in Hyrule knows of your voracious appetite, Link.'' Sidon teased.

''Ah, I'm not feeling hungry.'' Link responded, eyes turned downwards.

Sidon jolted, overemphasised beyond the point of mocking. ''Well, now I _am_ worried.'' He moved to hover over Link, like a brooding mother bird would her chicks, scanning him for injuries, but was batted away playfully. Of all of the things to get worked up over that evening, it was a relief to be able to focus on something so comparatively superficial. A reprieve that both men welcomed, wholeheartedly.

Slipping back into a semi-serious persona, Sidon remarked lowly.  
''Though it is not uncommon to lose one's appetite in unpleasant situations.''

Link's current mental circumstances were far beyond 'unpleasant', Sidon knew.

Link wheezed slowly, before turning back to Sidon with a sigh.  
''I think we both know that I'm far too much of a glutton to starve myself, Sidon.'' he said frankly, eyes turned into the pit of the flickering charcoal. He tossed another stick onto the pile, to fuel the flames' insatiable appetite.

Following his gaze, Sidon was struck by another pang of hunger, still noticeable, but far less crippling now he'd eaten, and quietly acquiesced to Link's generosity. He'd really have to find a way to pay Link back for, well... _everything._ But especially his boundless capacity for kindness, and the companionship he'd given to Sidon, these last few months.

As Link got to work cooking the third fish, Sidon's thoughts were occupied with hypothetical gifts to bestow upon Link. As royalty of a still functional society, Sidon had access to not-insubstantial funds and resources, though that still left the question of what to give him.

Link did not care for Rupees, he knew that much. And he had a house of his own in Hateno Village that he seemed quite content with, so offers of land would likely not affect him much either. This left Sidon feeling stumped, until he realised the only thing he could grant Link that he would value would be something personal. Perhaps something he could make himself?

He immediately shut down that idea. After all, what could he create that would even come _close_ to the gift his sister had created for him; a magnificent set of armour, tailored perfectly to him, and woven with her own scales. The greatest statement of love and devotion in the entire known kingdom. Sidon sighed.

He just wanted to give Link something that would convey how much he appreciated him. Not only what he had done, but also, _him._ As a person. Unfortunately, no ideas were particularly forthcoming.

Brought out of his musing by a blunt poke to his side, he glanced back at his companion, who was holding out a perfectly cooked fish. He took it mutely, with a nod of gratitude. He didn't know what else to say.

The second fish was just as unusual as the first, but, again, not unpleasant. Though, Sidon was still enjoying the somewhat novel sensation of boneless fish; it was something he didn't experience often anymore, given his preference to catch and consume fish raw. His teeth almost seemed _too_ sharp for the food he was given, as it offered minimal resistance, as his fangs rent flesh with brutal efficiency.

Sidon hummed in contentment, which was restated when Link scooted up to his side, likely to ward off the chilling wind. Sidon supposed he made an effective windbreak.

He snorted, immaturely. If Link heard him say that, he'd almost certainly misconstrue his words into an extremely childish joke about flatulence that Sidon would _most definitely_ pretend to be morbidly offended by.

Link looked up at the ignoble sound Sidon emitted, face twisting in curiosity. Though, when no answer was immediately forthcoming, he shuffled back down, having decided he couldn't spare the effort, and leaned into Sidon contentedly.

And, if only for a fleeting moment, Link was genuinely happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ''iNdeeD siDOn, YouR AbiliTy to bREak WinD iS UNmatchEd thROughOut HyRUle.''
> 
> You might have thought that after last chapter, I wouldn't put a terrible pun in my end notes, lest it scare away any potential commenter with the large amount of cringe.
> 
> You would have thought wrongly. ;)
> 
> Terrible jokes aside, comments mean a huge amount to me, so please feel free to let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fire has burned itself out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the update, as promised. It's another longer one, again. 
> 
> Note: This chapter references the events of _The New Champions_.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

### Chapter 4

### 

The fire had died down now; all that was left of the once fearsome blaze were smouldering coals, the fire having burnt itself out.

The faint wisps of wood smoke hung in the air briefly, before the tireless winds swept it out to sea.

Fortunately for the two vagabonds, they were now wrapped up in swaddling cloaks, and huddled together to share and conserve their warmth, hoarding it from the avaricious night air. Sidon hadn't anticipated needing one, not having expected to spend so long on the cliff side. In fact, he'd expected to be well on his way back towards the Domain by now. His escorts would probably be rather concerned when he was late for his rendezvous.

Ah well. It wasn't as if he didn't have a precedent for that.

He could probably expect to meet his beleaguered guards before sunrise, if he were to stay here, and expect a well-rehearsed lecture on personal security upon his return.

Although, given his present company, he was probably far safer right now than he'd been at any point within the last month.

Said present company was currently curled up at Sidon's side, back resting against his waist.

Sidon could not get over how utterly bizarre it was to consider that the small man beneath him was unequivocally the most dangerous entity in the entire Kingdom.

Having noticed Sidon's lack of protection from the elements, Link, in a show of characteristic generosity, had bestowed upon him a large, woollen blanket. He'd mentioned that he used it as 'emergency bedding' in the event of him 'roughing it'. Sidon had once again been touched by his capacity for kindness, although when he had muttered something about accruing an unpayable debt, Link's only response had been to laugh himself to tears.

Grumbling, Sidon tied the dark fabric around his shoulders, unimpressed by Link's mocking cackles. He _truly_ did not enjoy the fundamental imbalance that still sometimes existed in their interactions. Sidon had endeavoured to elevate Link onto an equal footing with himself with their declaration of fraternalism, but he seemingly could not escape the unequal weight between them that plagued every relationship he had, barring his father, and Princess Zelda, where it was inverted.

However much he believed that the 'Chosen Hero' was of a far higher standing than a lowly Prince of a Minor Kingdom, notwithstanding.

He couldn't escape the feeling that Link gave far, _far_ more to him than he received.

And Sidon greatly disliked that.

He supposed that was one reason he was so tolerant of Link's outbursts, and so desperate to help him through them. A need to equalise his debt.

But, on the topic of Link's outbursts, the Hylian had once more turned morose, sinking back into the inescapable well of his depression.

Depression was not unlike a tar pit, Sidon mused. Just as smothering and confining. They even both tended to pull you back into the centre, even as you struggled to free yourself. Until your will and energy were sapped away entirely, and you succumb to the inevitable, and are sucked down into the depths, never to resurface...

He knew that seeing the ocean so black that night had unsettled him. He couldn't quite figure out why until now.

If you were in shallower areas, it's possible that you won't ever become fully submerged and drown, however it was still immensely difficult to fully free oneself from the mire. Once you enter, escape becomes all but impossible. At least without outside assistance.

Assistance Sidon promised he would _always_ be willing to provide. Such he vowed, on his honour.

Especially since Sidon had a haunting impression that Link was decidedly _not_ stuck in the shallower areas of the metaphorical pit.

Link's previous vigour had not returned. He was far more resigned, if anything. His anger having burnt himself out, having consumed all of the fuel it had been fed, and more, and leaving only scorched, blackened remains. Not unlike the dying coals of the fire before them.

He'd only said one short line, in a far softer tone than his frenzied, anguished rants, and even more so than his affable-yet-daunting words when he'd first arrived to the cliff edge.

Yet Sidon could foresee that it would lead into another lengthy, and exhausting, conversation.

''I wish we'd never dug those damned things up.'' Link had whispered, in a mournful voice, embittered by the losses they had incurred.

Sidon was not going to pretend to be absent-minded enough to not know what Link was referring to.

''The Guardians, or the Beasts themselves?'' he enquired, gently.

'' _Yes._ '' Answered Link, cantankerously. Sidon emitted an involuntary chuff at his grammatical exploitation.

''Well, it is much easier to judge with the benefit of hindsight, after all.'' Sidon remarked, wistfully.  
Link seemed to agree, if his inclined head was to be believed.

Indeed, Sidon had thought long and hard about Ganon's forceful co-opting of the weapons designed to defend Hyrule against it. If they hadn't been unearthed, then they would not have been left free to rampage over Hyrule, unimpeded, for the last century. Furthermore, if Vah Ruta hadn't been rediscovered, Mipha would not have been in the direct line of fire, upon Ganon's inevitable resurrection. Or, at least, she would not have been _alone,_ and _unprepared._

Sidon had also wondered if the Champions wouldn't have fared better as a united front, prepared and girded for battle at ground zero when Ganon emerged, rather than being scattered and ambushed in turn.

Although, he had come to realise that there was one factor that such an argument wilfully overlooked.

''I had pondered similar scenarios myself, actually.'' Sidon commented, and Link turned to face him.  
''But unfortunately, I think that this overlooks something critical.''

He left his statement hanging in the air, not to deliberately infuriate and intrigue Link, but because only now were the pieces finally slotting together. With the information Link had supplied, Sidon had stumbled across a dawning realisation, and as such, needed a moment to take stock of his mental inventory.

''One thing has struck me as odd, for some time.'' Sidon continued, his change of topic no doubt riling Link's weathered patience, but as he was, he was far too docile to demand Sidon cut to his point.  
''That being, in your confrontation with the Calamity, the Divine Beasts unleashed a blast of unparalleled destructive force.''

Indeed, the light show that had illuminated Hyrule Field, and the subsequent explosion, had been witnessed the entire Kingdom over. Link had been so courteous as to warn each settlement of his intentions to face the Calamity, and had recommended they post scouts to monitor the battle, and its outcome, and make preparations for evacuation in the event of his defeat, and the return of Ganon.

Link had spent that last night before the battle in the Zora's Domain.

Needless to say, watching Link leave that morning was the hardest moment of Sidon's life. He'd been so deeply _afraid_ that history would repeat, that he was about to witness another person he loved march away, never to return, that he'd almost vomited from stress.

Link's final words to Sidon, and his other close friends among the Zora, still haunted him to this day.

'' _Either I will have vengeance, or I will have death. If I'm particularly lucky, I might even get both._ ''

No one found the statement particularly amusing, besides Link.

But on the topic of the Divine Beasts, Link had fallen rather quiet as he contemplated Sidon's meaning.

At Link's silent prompting, Sidon continued.

''After seeing the true destructive capabilities of the Beasts, I was left wondering -  
Why it was that they had never utilised such destructive weaponry in their rampages.''

Each Beast's rampage had threatened an imminent catastrophe to the race it was supposed to safeguard: Ruta threatened to wash the Domain away, Rudania was poised to crush the Goron City, Medoh promised to obliterate the Rito Village, and Naboris had committed to burying the Gerudo Town under the sandy wastes.

Sidon shuddered. He did not like sand.

But if the Beasts' goals had been to annihilate, what was preventing them from using their most devastating weapons to achieve it? Or even just stomping into the settlements to reduce them to ruins? After all, Hyrule would not have stood a chance at suppressing _one_ unrestrained Beast, let alone _all four._

''I can only conclude,'' Sidon continued lowly, ''After hearing that the Champions' souls remained after their demise, that their spirits were still fighting, refusing to submit and allow Ganon full control of their Beasts, and turn their main weapons on the people of Hyrule.''

...

_...Oh._

That... made a great deal of sense, actually.

Each one of them was some combination of stubborn, devoted, prideful and protective that Link could well believe that they would continue fighting, even beyond death, if it meant protecting those that were still left. If it meant not giving up.

Even if they were _utterly hopeless._

~~Even if they were 'awash in a pool of tears'.~~

''But regardless, the reason I brought this up at all,'' Sidon continued, quietly cutting over Link's muted realisation ''Is that simply leaving them underground would have left them defenceless, without a Pilot to contest Ganon's Blight. In the event of him sending Blights to control them, they would have encountered no resistance, and he would have subverted them entirely. It is surely not unreasonable to assume that an awakened Beast would be capable of liberating itself from the ground.''

Link sat, stricken at Sidon's epiphany.

''We _needed_ Pilots for them, Link. Otherwise, Ganon would have possessed them where they laid.'' Sidon pleaded, desperately hoping to convince Link of his logic, not to mention his desperation for Link to see the truth.

Finally, Link huffed, slowly rising from where he was sat, legs creaking ominously. Sidon couldn't repress a wince at the noise; a stark reminder that Link would age and wither far faster than he.

''Sidon...'' Link grumbled. ''If you're going to try and convince me that it 'had to be this way'...'' He mimed air quotes, tone contemptuous, ''Then, brother or not, I'm going to zap you.''

Sidon giggled at Link's empty threat, and at Link's scowling face, before Link himself cracked up slightly at him, his famed stoicism broken by Sidon's familiarity.

Their earnestness seemed to settle from wherever it had been disturbed to, draping across the ground between them.

Tone weary and almost haggard, Sidon responded respectfully:

''I wouldn't dream of claiming such a thing, Link.'' Of course, it did not need reiterating that Sidon had lost more than his fair share to Ganon, too. Sombreness coloured his tone in the dreary hues of sorrow.

''Sorry.'' Link apologised, half-heartedly. Sidon shrugged it off with a smirk. ''I'm just fed up of people trying to tell me it was all 'for the best'. _Was it fuck._ '' Link scoffed, and Sidon snorted at his 'uncouth language', as the Zora Council would refer to it.

The irony of such a claim was not lost on Sidon, due to his upbringing in this post-Calamity Hyrule. After all, the lands now contained more ruins and ghost towns than _actual_ towns. One did not need an extensive education in logistics and infrastructure to know that Hyrule had been utterly crippled by Ganon's return, and that the echoes of that devastation would resonate for _centuries_ yet. Although maybe those who had never known any better may think otherwise, the Zora had long memories, and they all mourned for what had been lost. Lingering discontent with Hyrule's Crown notwithstanding.

Link scowled, and fell into a partially mollified silence. It was not as if he could argue with Sidon's hypothesis, nor did he even _want_ to refute it: far from it for him to besmirch the Champions' good names and honour any more than he already had that evening.

And if that interpretation gave the Champions even a modicum amount more of agency in their own tragic fates, then Link would be remiss to deny it to them.

Two things were still certain though, beyond any doubt or insecurity:

It didn't change the fact that Link had failed them in the first place. And it didn't change the fact that their stories were woefully tragic. If anything, he supposed, it _added_ to it.

He closed his tired eyes slowly, futilely begging his failures to grant him any small reprieve from their stifling weight.

Not, he knew, that he was deserving of such respite.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An indeterminate time later, basking in the stalwart companionship Sidon was so graciously providing, a memory flitted into Link's mind. He was reminiscing, as he was so often wont to do. But specifically, he was recalling his rather... _heated_ conversation with Zelda, in Kakariko. The mournful look upon Sidon's face that caused his fins to droop and his head tail to sag had reminded him of the time he had unwittingly eavesdropped on the Zora Prince.

One of _many_ such times he had 'unwittingly eavesdropped' on him, Link amended ruefully. But then, stealth was not one of Sidon's many virtues.

''Sidon...'' Link probed. He felt, more than saw, Sidon turn his substantial bulk to better face him. 

Link was being unusually hesitant again, Sidon noted. That probably meant that whatever he wished to talk of would be fittingly demoralising. Sidon internally braced himself.

''Can I ask you something?'' Link requested, rather meekly. ''You have no obligation to answer me but...'' 

It was nice that Link felt obligated to let Sidon know that he would never try and force the issue, if he wasn't willing to talk about it. In all the time Sidon had known him, he'd always been most respectful of the boundaries others would lay down. Sidon reasoned that he'd acquired that from his own preference to distance himself. Sidon was, as always, remarkably grateful for his considerate nature.

Taking Sidon's silent, yet encouraging, stare as implicit permission, Link asked.

''Would you really have sacrificed yourself for Mipha, if you'd been given the chance. Or choice.'' He added on, voice resolutely not wavering.

Sidon was... rather taken aback.

He was rather sure he'd never actually voiced those unhealthy thoughts to Link. Din above, he practically forbade himself from even _thinking_ about them in Link's presence, as to not saddle him with Sidon's own grief. Everyone knew Link did not need any more of _that._

Having his deepest insecurities so starkly laid out in front of him was enough to unbalance him considerably, as his mind was battered by the swirling gales of his own anxieties.

Dimly, he realised he was dissociating. With a snap of his thoughts, he found himself drawn back to reality by a tactile sensation, only to discover that Link's hand had wormed its way into Sidon's own, sending gentle squeezes of reaffirmation that Sidon appreciated immensely. 

It was a humbling display of trust from him. They were both aware of the fact that Sidon possessed enough strength to crush his hand into a bloody mess. Still, that knowledge had not deterred Link from acting, nor from the soothing circles he traced into the back of Sidon's hand, Link's soft skin contrasting Sidon's rough scales. Though, such trust went both ways.

Ultimately, they trusted, and _loved,_ each other enough to know that they would _never_ hurt the other.

It was yet another thing Sidon cherished about Link. Since his latest growth spurt had sent him towering over all other denizens of the Domain (besides his father, of course), Sidon had noticed just how... _wary_ everyone had become of him.

Naturally, no one ever expressed it vocally, but neither did Sidon blame them. It seems that there is some inescapable instinct inherent to all beings to act cautiously around large animals. Sidon had supposed he could now qualify as such. Regardless, he had so often despaired over the minute, but noticeable, flinches others would suffer in his presence, especially whenever he reacted animatedly to something. Just one more barrier between himself and others that he found so hard to overcome. 

He'd eventually resolved to at least try and tone down his energy. He'd noticed that people never reacted in such a way to King Dorephan, his kingly aura aside, but then, Dorephan was about as kinetic as Mipha's Statue. Unfortunately, given Sidon's exuberant disposition, he found this a monumentally trying task, and one he found himself failing rather often, to his dismay.

But, of course, then there was Link; who was never once off-put by his vivacity, or intimidated by his sheer size. Who held no inhibitions against being all but glomped by the enormous Zora.

''Ah.'' Sidon replied, non-committedly, stalling himself for time to process.

''Wherever did you get such an impression?'' He deflected, fins curling in discomfort as he crossed his arms.

Link's eyes flicked towards his brachial fins, then back to his face. Bugger. He'd seen that.

Link ran a sheepish hand through his tangled hair. ''I may have overheard one of your many nightly soliloquies.'' Link offered. Sidon huffed.

''I believe I have informed you that eavesdropping on royalty is tantamount to treason?'' Sidon chided. It was a non-answer, they both knew.

''And I will remind you that it is not eavesdropping if one is in a public place.'' Link answered, equally pettily, smirking dully.

Their repetitious argument aside, Sidon was still quite discomfited at the topic. He sighed, wearily. He went to run a hand over his head, and past the dorsal fin, emulating Link's mannerisms. It did not convey quite the same impact without hair, Sidon thought.

''Why are you curious?'' Sidon intoned, still seeking to steer himself away from actually having to answer. A flash of insight struck. ''Is it perhaps because you are struggling with that very question yourself?''

Link startled. _Of course_ Sidon would see right through him, and turn the question around.

He really disliked it when he did that.

Recognising his opening, Sidon pressed his advantage.

''From my understanding of events, you were granted neither the choice, nor the chance to save Mipha that day. You had to fulfil your duty in guarding Princess Zelda, and escorting her to safety.''

Link's voice overrode his own, self-loathing tainting his words.

''I could have gone with her.'' His delivery was remarkably soft, and weary. ''From Mt. Lanayru, I could have followed her to Ruta...'' He finished, feebly.

Sidon blinked, slowly. Link was normally more logical, not to mention _rational,_ than that.

''Mipha returned to the Domain via the waterways. You would have only slowed her down immensely.'' He stated bluntly. ''Besides, more significantly, you did not _know_ she was going to face any danger. If anything, I imagine she would have been far more afraid for _you._ '' He remarked.

Link actually _whined._ Sidon's heart almost shattered at the piteous noise. 

''Link...'' Sidon pleaded, ''Surely you must recognise that obsessing over this is not healthy?'' Sidon hoped Link would not react explosively to his attempts at defusing his legendarily incandescent fury.

Mercifully, the goddesses deemed to grant him one favour that evening.

Link slumped down again. It had become so habitual, that Sidon was worrying for his posture.

Link sighed, extending the exhalation until his lungs were completely empty. ''...you still haven't answered the question.''

Sidon was rather hoping Link would have forgotten about his bypassing, but it seems he was still lucid enough to catch that. He wasn't exactly _surprised,_ just disappointed.

After another moment to muster himself, he choked out quietly: 

''Does it matter?'' His voice was somehow even smaller than Mipha's in her most awkward moments. Quite the considerable feat, given their respective size disparity.

But he had an invariable point; what did their deepest wishes mean in the face of the brutal reality? The fact that they had _not_ been given such a choice, and that no amount of lamenting would change that.

Link _knew_ that. Objectively.

But accepting it was a different matter, entirely.

Although, he could see clearly that Sidon was reluctant to actually answer. He supposed he could interpret Sidon's answer from his _refusal to answer,_ but he would not force the issue and cause him more suffering.

Which made it all the more astonishing that Sidon volunteered his answer himself.

''...yes.'' He answered, finally, after yet another pregnant pause. ''Yes, I would have.''

Link was shocked into a deep silence. Horror and shock warred for dominance on his face. Despite what he'd overheard, he, better than anyone, knew there was a marked difference between something said in the throes of grief and anguish, and something stated with such calm rationality and resolve. The fact that Sidon truly felt such a way was... nauseating.

He supposed he deserved that; he'd asked the question, after all.

Sidon continued, despondently. ''But then, I realise that Mipha would have, _did, in fact,_ do the same for me, and she would never have abided by my willingness to sacrifice myself for her.'' He laughed, weakly. It did not require stating how much he loved her. To be willing to perform such an act required nothing less than absolute devotion, after all. But then, Mipha had always taken it upon herself to look after and protect Sidon, as any older sibling should, which had only been compounded by the absence of their mother. She would have been beyond horrified if he had been killed in a misguided attempt to protect her.

It wasn't as if he could have done anything, anyway. They all knew that he would have been nothing but a burden at the time, due to his youth.

Mipha would likely have never forgiven herself for such a failure.

~~Nayru knew that Sidon hadn't.~~

''Although, ultimately, it is irrelevant.'' Sidon sighed. ''As we both know, we were not given the opportunity to even make such a choice, so it means little now.'' He screwed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to keep the tears from falling.  
''Why did you want to know? _Now_ of all times?'' He asked, gently, desperate to distract Link, until he could rein in his emotive display.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Link freeze, before a guilty grimace graced his face. He tried again, more insistently, until Link folded under his request.

''I may have accidentally revealed that in another conversation.'' Sidon could hear the regret in his voice, as he shifted reproachfully. It was yet another, added to an almost inexhaustible list.

Upon registering his words, Sidon froze. '' _To Whom?_ '' he ground out, icily, _menacingly._

Holding his nerve, Link did not shy away, and faced down Sidon to accept the impending fallout with astounding dignity.

''Princess Zelda, and Lady Impa.'' He answered stiffly, with the tone of a soldier being reprimanded by their commanding officer. ''...and anyone who overhead me. You never really know, in a village of spies-''

Cutting Link off with a violent hand wave, Sidon shrieked out. ''For Din's sake, Link!'' Exasperation and anger projected from his tone. If Link had flinched at Sidon's actions, he hadn't noticed. ''That was _not_ your place to say!'' He hoped he was doing enough to communicate how utterly furious, but more importantly, _betrayed_ he felt by Link's indiscretion.

''I know, Sidon, and please believe me when I say that I am _truly_ sorry for revealing that.'' He had the decency to look utterly ashamed, at least.

Sidon glared at Link. His gaze was surprisingly effective at conveying the sheer incredulity he felt, that Link would let something so deeply personal just 'slip out'.

''In my defence,'' Link conceded, ''I was _utterly incensed_ at the time. I'm afraid I wasn't thinking clearly, nor did I consider the consequences of what I was saying. That doesn't excuse it, but...''

Hearing Link's explanation somehow accomplished the almost impossible task of shocking Sidon out of his anger. Whatever could Link have been so angry about, to cause him to lose his rationality to such an extent?

Sidon could only think of one thing...

''The Princess had made the rather regrettable mistake of insulting the honour of the Champions.'' Link provided, confirming Sidon's suspicions. ''It was not done deliberately; her offence came from the best of intentions for myself, and unwilling ignorance on her part. Upon being witness to my reaction, I think I managed to convince her of her error.'' He chuckled flatly, humourlessly, and somewhat guiltily.

Sidon supposed he could appreciate the irony that Link had reprimanded Princess Zelda for the exact same infraction that he had reprimanded Link for. If he were less angry, he might have even found it amusing.

''What could she have possibly said to make you so upset?'' Sidon demanded, forcefully.

Uneasy under the pressure, Link squirmed slightly. ''I believe my words were 'utterly incensed'.''

Sidon almost snarled at his evasiveness, however Link received the message.

''I... don't think it would be for the best for me to tell you.'' He replied. Holding his hand up to forestall Sidon's very justified insistence, he continued abashed: ''I _will_ tell you, if you demand it Sidon, although I strongly believe that you will be better off not knowing.''

Sidon's jaw was clenched so tightly, Link could almost hear his teeth grinding together as he accounted for his suggestion.

Finally, he resolutely met Link's gaze. ''I think I would like to know.'' He kept his tone painfully even. Link raised an eyebrow, but quickly acquiesced, as he'd promised.

''Princess Zelda wished to replace the Champions.'' Link answered, clinically. Not giving Sidon time to process, he continued, ''If you want to know exactly what I said, I will tell you. You have the right to know. Although, I request to not have to do so tonight. I... do not have the energy required to say it.'' He tailed off. Of course, presenting his argument to Sidon would mean he'd have to reveal the all-encompassing terror Link felt for his safety, amongst other things.

He _really_ wasn't ready for that conversation.

Sidon seemed to acknowledge Link's exhausted tone, and actually acceded to his request. Link blessed his forbearing heart.

Anger still radiated off the Prince in visible wavelengths, however.

Link sighed. ''Words cannot describe how sorry I am, Sidon. I'm _not_ above grovelling for forgiveness, if that is what you'd desire.'' 

Sidon whirled on him again. ''That's not amusing, Link.'' He growled.

''I wasn't trying to be.'' Link replied, simply.

Sidon sighed. He had no desire to order Link to crawl at his feet, begging for his mercy. Though, the fact that Link seemed so prepared to accept the indignity was... something.

Visualising bundling up all of his anger, and outrage and sadness into a single compact ball, Sidon exhaled, and cast it away into the open air. He felt noticeably lighter after letting it all go.

''Hylia forfend, Link.'' He sighed, exasperatedly. He accepted that, no matter how much he disliked it, it was in the past. It wasn't as if either of them could retract his statement retroactively, nor force the Princess to simply forget what Link had said.

''I didn't want _you_ to know about that.'' Sidon bemoaned. ''Let alone practically strangers.''

Link winced, although he wisely remained quiet. Sidon was still obviously angry, although he seemed more in-control now that he had been. Link couldn't blame him for that; it was quite the breach of trust. He scolded himself again, for good measure.

Sidon assertively changed the topic, lest he become angry once more; he'd have to deal with those emotions another time. A less precarious time.

''But regardless,'' he murmured. ''You weren't given a choice to save Mipha, so you mustn't torture yourself with the possibilities.'' Nothing good could come from that, Sidon knew from experience.

''You already mentioned that.'' Link muttered sullenly.

Suppressing the spark of irritation, Sidon bit his tongue. His teeth were rather sharp, however, and such action elicited a yelp of pain.

Heedless, Link carried on: ''But then, I wouldn't be surprised if the goddess hadn't planned it in such a way. Because if I did have that choice...'' he tailed off, affixing his gaze to the middle-distance.  
''If I'd had to choose between Zelda and Mipha...''

Sidon wasn't sure what was so fascinating about whatever Link was staring at. His eyes were better suited to the darkness, and all _he_ could see was a black, murky blob. Such distractions did not divert his attention from Link's every utterance, however, as he hung on to every word with rapt desperation, afraid that even so much as breathing would shatter the moment.

''Well, I know what I would have picked.'' Link concluded. 

…

''...And, in doing so, I would have doomed Hyrule.'' He sighed forlornly, then sat back down, back facing Sidon once more.

_Oh._

''But, seeing as _so much_ survived the Calamity anyway, I'm not sure it would have made all that much difference.'' He laughed, sardonically, _cruelly._

After a moment, he perked up slightly. '' _Please_ don't tell the Princess I said that. It would upset her.''

That rather went without saying, Sidon thought. Still, he'd protect that secret with his life, even despite Link's own carelessness. Such knowledge could completely ruin their relationship.

Sidon was not the vindictive sort.

Choosing to instead focus on the other issue Link presented (and not on Link's admission that he valued his sister above all of Hyrule itself), Sidon asked:

''What do you mean, exactly, by the 'goddess planning'?'' He couldn't deny his curiosity.

Link simpered, sickeningly sweet, but the aftertaste seemed foul on his tongue. ''Well, as I told the Princess, the Great and Merciful Hylia has presented quite the vested interest in our collective survival. I do not think it would have been beyond her to manipulate the fates in such a way as to guarantee myself being placed in the Shrine, then, amongst other things, not only grant me a tutor and guide whilst I rediscovered my feet in the form of the ghost of King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, but also in conversing with me, and offering me guidance whenever I so desired, through the goddess statues dotted around Hyrule.''

Sidon was... somewhat confused. 

Link had mentioned similar things before: conversing with the spirits of the deceased Champions (including his sister) to name but one. But Sidon had never been thoroughly convinced that what Link had experienced was not some form of schizophrenia, or perhaps a desperate desire for closure, or perhaps a noble attempt to offer some comfort to ~~him~~ those others who missed ~~her~~ them. Unfortunately, Link had been through more than enough trauma to justify such infirmity.

Naturally, Sidon had been too polite to ever insinuate as much, and in a world containing an evil demon older than history itself, and technology so unfathomably advanced it may as well be _magic,_ not to mention the fact that Link had been granted each Champion's signature ability after freeing their Beast...

Well, Sidon supposed the world they lived in was very strange, indeed.

Although, Link's claims always pushed the limits of fantastical, beyond even _unbelievable._

But then, he supposed that it was Link's nature to do the impossible.

''But what I really meant...'' Link gave pause, to prevent Sidon's eyes from rolling back into his skull under the rambling onslaught of exposition he was subjecting him to.  
''Is that I suspect that Hylia, or some other whim of Fate Itself, _deliberately kept me_ from having to choose between Zelda and Mipha.'' He scowled, face truly thunderous, not at all like when he was jesting with the Prince, earlier.

Sidon flinched, taken aback. ''Is it not rather arrogant to assume a goddess has personally intervened in your destiny?'' He asked, almost scandalised at Link's impertinence.

''Sidon,'' Link sighed, superciliously, laboriously pronouncing each word with deliberation, ''I am the reincarnation of the Hero Chosen by the Goddess, wielder of the Master Sword; the Blade of Evil's Bane, also literally called the 'Goddess Sword'. It's not arrogance, it's _objective fact._ My very birth was by Hylia's intention and design.'' He sniffed, matter-of-factly.

''It was mine and Zelda's _divinely ordained destiny_ to face down the Calamity.'' He explained. ''Not anyone else's, not the Champions', not the King's, not _yours,_ nor anyone else slaughtered by it...  
Just _ours._ '' Link pierced Sidon's gaze with his own, punctuating his emphasis.  
''And, despite _our_ failures, _we_ were the only ones who fought, and lived to walk away...'' He breathed.

''So, no, Sidon. I don't think it's unreasonable at all to assume that.'' He surmised snidely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that covered a fair bit of ground.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think below. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidon confronts the core of Link's issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note that I've updated the tags.
> 
> Take care.

### Chapter 5

### 

Sidon blinked evenly, as he took deep, measured breaths.

Link hadn't seen fit to grant Sidon any more information about his nigh blasphemous claim that Hylia was personally meddling in his destiny, although Sidon reasoned that there was likely a lot of context he was missing. Besides, it really wasn't his position to judge, let alone refute.

Either way, Link had fallen quiet again, still giving some unknown object a 'thousand yard stare' which, given the visibility of the night, was likely more of a 'fifty yard stare'.

Sidon wasn't sure how to interpret his affection for lashing out and blaming the goddesses themselves for his current condition. Under normal circumstances, he'd attribute it to a deep-rooted anger and denial...

(However, as Link had been so obliging in informing him, Link was one of only two people in all of Hyrule who _genuinely_ had the right to make such a claim, and not have it be written off as an immature expression of their angst.)

Which only further supported the conclusion Sidon had drawn long ago; one he'd always known, but kept to the back of his mind out of a mixture of respect, and not really knowing how to approach it. Quite the impenetrable combination.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

He'd seen the symptoms in many others, of course. Himself included. Sadly, he knew from that experience that it was an ailment not easily remedied.

Link seemed to have amassed a collection of those, he thought morosely.

''You have, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the single _worst_ case of Survivor's Guilt I have ever borne witness to, my friend.'' Sidon said, shattering the silence.

Link's gaze was not averted by the address. However Sidon noticed the trembling in his shoulders that he initially mistook for sobs.

Throwing his head back to the sky, Link abruptly began _howling_ with laughter. His maniacal cackles that pierced the unsettled air were comparable to the cacophonous caws of an entire colony of Keese in how they managed to chill Sidon's already cold blood. In the unsettling throes of Link's hysteria, Sidon failed to ignore the tears streaming from Link's eyes once more, nor the rising discomfort in his own stomach.

He hadn't thought he'd said anything particularly risible.

When Link finally bent his neck backwards to glance at Sidon behind him, his giggles, which were slowly dying down, were renewed once more when he noticed the utter bafflement on Sidon's upside-down features.

It took a disturbingly long time for Link to regain some measure of self control, but when he eventually did, he decided to benevolently let Sidon in on the joke.

''I think, Sidon,'' He giggled like a child, losing his coherence. He tried again: ''I think for it to be 'Survivor's Guilt', I would have had to _survive._ '' 

Sidon frowned. Link was behaving in that remarkably obtuse way that he was so fond of. Needless to say, Sidon was decidedly _less_ endeared to it. Still, he always tended to clarify the nonsense he spewed before too long, so Sidon would simply wait for Link's inevitable explanation.

True to form, he didn't have to wait long.

''I mean,'' Link chuckled, holding his sides to ground himself, ''It's called the 'Shrine of _Resurrection',_ not the 'Shrine of Sprained Ligaments, and other assorted Minor Flesh Wounds'.''

''...what?'' Was all Sidon could reply.

''Let me spell it out for you.'' Link mocked, almost condescendingly. '' _I died, Sidon._  
I died, and then I was dead for more than a hundred years, until the Shrine brought me back.'' His mirth slowly bled into cold anguish, that caused Sidon to shiver.

Well, that was... morbid. Of course, Sidon, and the rest of the Domain, had _known_ that Link had fallen, and had then returned after a century long hiatus to finish his task, but...

He realised, ashamedly, that he'd never truly _considered_ what that actually entailed. What would be required for such events to occur.

''I mean,'' Link was interrupted by a hacking cough, which he snorted away. ''I really needed it, too. I was killed on a battlefield, after all. So I was quite the mess.'' Link sighed faux-dreamily.  
''It's not quite as romantic as the Legends portray it to be. You don't just 'run out of vitality' and fall, daintily, to the ground, oh no...'' He laughed, more softly.

The unease creeping up Sidon's stomach doubled. He didn't think he was looking forward to where Link was going, but he held the same chance of stopping him now as a Chuchu in the face of a charging Lynel, the chill spreading through his body having frozen his mouth shut. 

''I actually hold the dubious accolade of having _read my own autopsy._ '' He grinned, tone belying the repugnance of what he was describing. ''Although...'' His gaze slid to the side.  
''It wasn't much of an autopsy, as much as the fact that my left arm was charcoal below the elbow, and my internal organs had been pulverised into paste, which was leaking from lesions in my abdominal cavity.'' He waved his blemish free left arm into a jaunty salute, whilst patting his stomach with his right.  
''Though, I must wonder what happened to my shield. Had it broken, or did I just not have one, for some reason? That would have been dumb.''

Sidon gagged, holding a hand to his mouth to prevent any spillage, although he was nonplussed at Link's impromptu tactical analysis. Link grinned.

''There were a thousand other injuries as well. I think I had more bone fractures than I have _bones._ But they were the most viscerally disturbing ones.'' The look Sidon gave him could have frozen Death Mountain.

Unfortunately, Link burned hotter.

''And to add to the damage I received in battle, there's also the fact that I died in Blatchery Plain, in front of the Hateno Fort Wall. Rather the heroic last stand, I suppose? But, even for Sheikah moving under ideal conditions, it would still take a couple of days for them to reach the Shrine from there. And, of course, with the Guardians running amok, and lugging a corpse with them, they would hardly have been travelling at their best speed. They would have had to stick to the shadows, which, admittedly, is their forte, but...'' He waved his hand, apathetically.  
''My point is, it was more than long enough for putrefaction to take its toll.''

Sidon did not think himself a squeamish person; he'd been witness to his fair share of horrors in his time. However, the vivid and gruesome picture Link was painting strained even _his_ composure.

''Fortunately, I wasn't aware for any of that. Y'know, being dead. Small mercies, I guess.'' He sighed, wistfully. But he wasn't done. ''There was still so much I _was_ aware for, though, which really sucked. I mean, I _want_ to tell you that my fingers, and most of my left hand, were blown _clean_ off, but the truth is that it was rather bloody, and _excruciatingly_ painful.''

Sidon was left paralysed with horror. What was he supposed to say, to _do,_ in the face of such pain?

''But even that...'' Link laughed, to hide another sob. ''That was far from the worst pain I suffered that day.  
Far more agonising than any damage that was inflicted upon me was actually _dying._ '' He glanced aside, back to Sidon. ''I'd recommend you avoid it for at least a good while, yet.'' He chuffed.

''More specifically, dying under the weight of my _failure._ '' He elaborated, with an accompanying hand wave. ''Dying, knowing that I had done all I could, given all of my strength, and despite it all... having failed, all the same. Dying knowing that I'd failed in my oaths to protect Hyrule and its citizens, knowing that all of my friends and comrades and Kingdom were dead, and that we were facing utterly unavoidable obliteration from Ganon. Compared to that, I hardly even noticed my wounds.'' He smiled, masking the pain the memories dredged up.

Link paused for a moment, to reclaim the breath he was so foolishly squandering. Sidon, for his part, was valiantly struggling to keep his meal in his stomach. It would be frightful waste, he reasoned, hands soothing his upset guts. He had no intention to taste it again, only this time marinated in bile and stomach acid. That might put him off of smoked fish indefinitely.

''My particularly gruesome point,'' Link picked up, slightly breathless, giving Sidon a remorseful glance, ''Is that I was dead - _Really dead_ \- and gone.'' He raised his hands in an overemphasised shrug.  
''But here I am now.'' He let his hands fall back down, causing a muted 'clap' where they hit the ground.

''I suppose, if you wish to diagnose my issue,'' He scoffed, ''Or, rather, _one of them._ '' He amended with a shrug.  
''It's not that everyone died...

_It's that I came back._ '' 

And, obviously, Sidon filled in, that _no one else had._

He reckoned that the only person who could possibly even begin to understand his plight would be the Princess, who had existed as a non-corporeal entity for the entire century she spent locked in combat with the Calamity. Although, from what he understood, Princess Zelda had not actually _died,_ been struck down, and brought back, as Link had.

So truly, Link's situation was extraordinarily difficult to emphasise with, given most people could not even comprehend what he had experienced. Sidon felt completely distraught to have to include himself in that assessment, but he would not claim such an empty falsehood; claim that he _could_ understand. But he wouldn't let that prevent him from trying, at least.

'''Reviver's Guilt', if you will!'' Link chirped up with false cheer, proud of his pun. ''Is that a word?'' He questioned. Sidon didn't know if he was supposed to answer.  
''Well, it is now!'' Link claimed, snorting his amusement.

His unease rising to its climax, Sidon found that he could not remain silent for another moment. How he so _desperately_ desired to take away all of Link's pain, and grief, and lavish upon him nothing but the respect and admiration he so thoroughly deserved, until this anguish was naught but a fleeting spectre, incapable of ever hurting him again.

If only he knew just how ironic that sentiment was.

''Yet, you are here now.'' Sidon intoned, desperately, shattering the shackles around his tongue. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd hoped to accomplish by stating the completely obvious, but he found sounding like a simpleton currently preferable to holding his horror-struck silence. 

Link gave a small laugh, though his humour had all but fled him, following after all of the local fauna. Sidon defiantly refused to even consider that they had the right idea; he had pledged that he was _not_ going to abandon Link. He would follow through on that promise.

''I sometimes wonder, Sidon,'' Link breathed, more measured now, ''If my memories and vitality were not the only things the Shrine took from me.'' It was a shocking indication of how rattled he was that he didn't even react to Sidon's unsubtle approach, nor the unsteady hand that found its way to his collarbone. He was far too absorbed in his own ruminations, the consideration that his soul had not survived his resurrection intact, that there was something fundamental, intrinsic even, that he was missing, that had been robbed from him.

''I mean, really. Just how much is there that separates me from your everyday Stalkoblin?'' He pondered aloud. ''Or, even just any monster that was revived by a Blood Moon. After all, the ones I slaughtered actually _remembered me_ after they came back!'' He cackled at the bitter irony.

Indeed, the number of monsters that held a personal grudge against their killer was not small. Link realised belatedly that it would be somewhat hypocritical to begrudge them that, so instead chose to begrudge any of their other numerous transgressions. Like actually _trying_ to kill him, for example.

Most of them were stupid enough to think that simply charging him again would end differently this time, for some reason. Link was fairly sure that doing the exact same thing and expecting different results was one of the clearest indications of insanity, or, at the very least, stupidity. Regardless, neither interpretation was particularly flattering to the monsters' intelligence.

But then, there were the wilier ones. Like the Lynels. One of which set up an ambush for him, at the summit of Ploymus Mountain, in an attempt to exact its vengeance.

The frightening thing was how close it had been to succeeding. How it _would_ have succeeded, if not for Mipha's Grace...

Not that he had told Sidon that.

Speaking of the Prince, Sidon winced.

Truly, Sidon contemplated, it was no great mystery, the source of Link's animosity.

Sidon then snarled silently, and vehemently shook his head. He brutally discarded the idea that the man he so admired was somehow 'lesser' for his arduous trials. But how could he convince _Link_ of that? He was left distressingly devoid of ideas.

''It feels as if there is an emptiness inside of me.'' Link admitted, relieved to finally confess this great secret; the vacuous hole that had been eating away inside of him, in more than one figurative sense, until he was left with a flawless veneer masking a putrescent, decaying interior.  
''At first, I compensated for it with an insatiable curiosity. When that led me to answers, I didn't have to try hard to fill myself with anger, the righteous fury I drew upon when I vowed to destroy the Calamity and avenge those I loved.'' He sniffed, stuck somewhere between mirth and woe.

A notably strong gust of wind silenced him for a moment, as he scrambled to readjust his cloak. It was, Sidon ruefully admitted, inappropriately funny. Not that either of them were in a humorous mood, Link's hollow laughter aside. Sidon suspected it was his coping mechanism, one he found it impossible to blame him for.

Sidon had lived long enough to know that sometimes, the only difference between laughing and crying was one's particular emphasis. Link toed that line more precisely than anyone he'd ever known.

''But now,'' Link sniffed again...

''Now, it's just... _empty._ ''

In a desperate gambit, Sidon discarded his many inhibitions, and opted for the one thing he knew could draw a reaction from the despondent man.

''You're still yourself, Link. The man my sister fell in love with...'' He tried again, hoping to appeal to his affections. He understood the risk such an invocation was taking, however he believed reminding him of that would discourage him from acting... rashly.

It was still going to hurt. Though, they both knew that anyway. Sidon grimly acknowledged that that seemed to be the common denominator for Link's entire existence.

Link's response was instant; sharper than the wind and colder than the water:

''The man Mipha fell in love with has been dead for one hundred years.'' Though his voice remained still, Sidon could hear the phantom tremors that undercut each word.  
''All that is left is... _this._ '' Link gestured to his huddled form with no small amount of disgust and bitterness that Sidon could almost _taste._

'' _The hollow shell... of a walking corpse._ '' 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Link's head fell to his chest at the admittance, as he curled up into himself in a pointless effort of concealment, as if he had _not_ just laid his soul bare to the brother he loved and trusted. The only person alive he would trust with something so intimate, so fragile.

Sidon sat, stock still, at the revelation. The tension that had been winding up inside him with his rising horror reached it's delayed peak, then, all of a sudden, snapped backwards violently in release, jolting Sidon forwards with an illusory impulse. Sidon's claws dug at the dusty ground; he'd relocated them to avoid shredding Link's blanket, or his shoulder, in his agitation. The sensation of dirt and grime coalescing under his nails served to ire him greatly, but...

If he would forgive himself for a pun Link would be proud of, he had bigger fish to fry.

''I don't believe that.'' He said, softly, seeking to soothe Link's hurt with his voice alone.

Link riposted flatly. ''It doesn't matter whether or not you believe the truth, Sidon.'' In his tone was a bleakness unmatched by either the Tabantha Tundra, or the Gerudo Wastelands. The inexorable hand of depression served to whittle him down the same way that the winds of a blizzard or sandstorm stripped away at skin, bone and stone alike, carving it down, eating away at layer after layer until all that remained was dust, aimlessly blowing away on the mournful winds.

Link definitely felt rather unmoored, as he was; adrift, and left to the mercy of the storm of his own subconscious.

''You seem so certain of that.'' Sidon chided. All he received was a dull grunt in agreement.  
''Alas, I remain unconvinced. After all, would I have sworn a man I found lacking in _any_ capacity as my kin?''

That managed a rise out of Link. He pivoted on his haunches, almost dislodging Sidon's death-grip on the ground in the process.

''You don't understand, Si-''

''No, I think it is _you_ who does not understand, Link.'' Sidon cut across him smoothly, deflecting his sorrow and self-loathing under his determined interruption. Silence followed his outburst, which Sidon took as tacit permission to continue.  
''None of us are perfect, no matter how much we would strive towards it. That is a fact of life.'' He remarked, passionately reciting another lesson he'd been imparted by his tutors.  
''The truth of the matter is that I do not, _and will never,_ regret claiming you as my brother, no matter how unworthy or wretched you think yourself.

And that is not because I assumed you were perfect. Although, I will admit, I thought that you were a great deal closer to it than the rest of us could ever hope to be...'' He chuckled under the weight of the naive illusions that had been shattered that evening. He wasn't going to tiptoe around _that_ particular broken glass.

''No, Link,'' he persevered ''When I swore you as my kin, I looked upon you, and saw flaws, albeit minor ones. You wear your masks well.'' He complimented. Sidon was not sure in retrospect whether that was a skill Link should be proud of. He'd understood its necessity, however he questioned its sustainability. A person who lies to everyone, presents a facade for the world to see, will likely end up lying to themselves, and crumbling under the cracks that eventually form in it.

''I saw your flaws, and acknowledged that there may yet have been others that I did not see.'' His pointed look informed Link of what he was tactfully leaving unsaid. Yet, before Link could wilt upon himself any further, Sidon resumed his speech.

''And I accepted you, wholeheartedly, in spite of them.''

Sidon was gratified to hear Link's sharp intake of breath.

He was less gratified when he recognised the signs of Link slipping back into his sorrow. The slump of his shoulders, and the arch of his back were so much more bitter after having witnessed (not even for the first time that evening) a ray of hope shining through the ever-present cloud layer, before it was ruthlessly smothered by the nebulous fog, blotting it out as surely as if it did not even exist to begin with.

But Sidon instead chose to focus on the hope that was there. There was simply no alternative.

''For what it's worth Sidon,'' Link sniffed, then launched himself into the Prince, clutching him with more ferocity and possessiveness than even that thrice damned Oktorok. Sidon found he didn't mind it so much, when it was _Link_ constricting him so.  
''Your support means more to me than you will ever know.'' He murmured into the scratchy fabric of Sidon's makeshift cloak. He looked as if he wanted to continue, but was struggling to swallow past the lump lodged in his throat.  
''I... _I love you, Sidon._ '' He looked almost pained at the admittance, as if it had taken a great deal of energy to say, energy he could not afford to spare.

And though Sidon's heart soared at Link's admission, his mind was bracing him for the inevitable 'but' that would bring Link's mood crashing back down.

Hoping to delay the inevitable, Sidon re-engaged in the conversation:  
''And I, you, Link. And I might add that if you are still capable of such love, then surely you cannot be some kind of glorified zombie, as you so claim?''

Link found himself floundering at Sidon's logic, however he didn't have the heart within him to refute it, and _truly mean it,_ so he let it lie. That did not equate to being _convinced,_ however...

Fortunately, there was _another_ issue he could latch on to.

''And therein lies the issue,'' He said, as if Sidon could telepathically or otherwise divine his answer from nothing more than a non-sequitur.

After a characteristically forlorn sigh, he explained dejectedly: ''Everyone I have ever come to love has ended up predeceasing me, or suffering horribly. In the case of Mipha and Daruk, it was both. I _can't_ have that again Sidon. I _won't._ '' Link's voice was small again, and quiet.

The blatant reminder of Link's relatively short natural lifespan was extremely unwelcome to the Zora Prince. The fact that he would outlive Link by _centuries..._ didn't bear thinking about.

He didn't like to dwell on the distant future, especially if it came at the expense of the present. However that did not change the fact that such a time was coming. There would come a day when Link would die, and he'd be left without any of his siblings to navigate the course his life would take alone.

''I could still live for a good few decades yet,'' Link sighed, ''But no matter how well I do for myself, by the time I'm gone, you'll still be in the prime of your life. And...'' he paused for good measure, to give his thoughts the proper gravitas they deserved.  
''I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm _not_ outliving you, too.'' He sighed at his declaration, then fell quiet. He meant it too; he would fight with every ounce of his strength to protect Sidon from whatever sought to cause him harm; be it monster, person, or even the deities themselves. Whilst he had no intentions of goading anyone into his challenge, they would have to pry his brother from his cold, (re-)dead hands, before he would allow any more harm to befall him.

But all of Hyrule knew how well such a vow had gone for him in the past.

Sidon only tightened his arms around him.

''So what does it _really_ matter if I die in a month, a year, a decade or a century?'' Link asked rhetorically.

''...Be that as it may, Link, _I_ would still like to have as much time with you as the goddesses will allow me.'' Sidon announced. He may have been taken aback, but he would not let that statement go unchallenged.

Link laughed again. Sidon internally despaired at how he'd come to realise that the most sure-fire way to guarantee a laugh out of Link was morbid statements pertaining to Link's own mortality. He _understood_ gallows-humour as a concept, as both a warrior and a philosopher, but the extent to which Link took it...

Sidon held the creeping suspicion that Link was not far short of harbouring a death wish.

~~That is, of course, _if he did not already have one._~~

''Oh, I wouldn't worry about _that,_ Sidon.'' He chuckled. ''After all, _she won't let me die._ ''

_That_ statement served to trip Sidon up. He startled, then did a double-take at Link's words, mind almost blanched at their terrifying implication.

''Who won't?'' He asked, dumbly. Was he referring to the Princess, or perhaps...

Link softly snickered at the question, before removing himself from Sidon's dumbstruck arms, slowly rising to his feet. He ponderously wandered back towards his pack, before withdrawing something Sidon could not discern in the encroaching darkness.

''Of course,'' He sighed. ''I'd forgotten that I've never shown you.'' He smiled benignly at Sidon, lips twisting into a forlorn grin.  
''I suppose it's past time I did; you have the right to know.''

Link had said that a lot this night, Sidon realised, however his thoughts were drowned out by the sonorous rasp of steel against a scabbard. He squinted in the darkness, aware that Link had drawn a sword for some as-of-yet unknown reason. Had he detected a threat? Sidon's awareness exploded outwards, as his attuned senses searched for any potential hostile presence that he had missed, his own hand running against the sword hanging at his waist.

Link held the blade up, admiring it for a moment. It was a Royal Broadsword, one of very few that still existed in the world. Link had appropriated this one from the bowels of Hyrule Castle, and, due to it's rarity and quality, had taken extensive care of it. It was, unfortunately, impossible to replace; there no longer existed blacksmiths with the expertise to forge or repair one, so Link's only option was to maintain the ones he could scavenge to the best of his ability.

Sidon appraised Link's sword with bemusement; it was, evidently, not the famed Master Sword. Sidon could clearly see it's profile was markedly different from the Legendary Blade. Despite that, it's quality was obvious at a glance. Sidon did not require a demonstration to know that the edge was wickedly sharp.

His only question was what Link intended to use it on.

Catching Sidon's eye with a smirk, Link breathed once, then settled in his resolve.

''She made me a promise.''

A mere instant before it occurred, the bottom of Sidon's stomach seemed to fall away, overcome as he was with trepidation. He began to reach for Link but he was too far away to stop him in time.

With that, Link twirled the sword with the grace and dexterity of a master swordsman, before reversing the blade, leaving Sidon breathless.

And then he plunged the sword into his gut.


	6. Chapter 6

### Chapter 6

### 

_The first time Mipha's Grace saved his life, he'd been reckless._

_Par for the course, really. But it could only be so long before luck caught up with him._

_He'd been travelling for a while, and had come across an entire encampment of Lizalfos._

_It would have been the tactically prudent decision to disengage, and pick them off one at a time._

_Link wasn't feeling particularly tactical that evening. Perhaps it was fatigue catching up with him, perhaps it was just rotten luck, but the outcome was that he'd ended up having to fight more than twenty Lizalfos all at once._

_And what a fight it had been._

_Despite being peppered with arrows, most of which he caught on his shield, despite innumerable blows raining down from his enemies' claws, teeth and swords, most of which were avoided or blocked, Link danced, and weaved and parried and countered and riposted, never staggering nor slowing in the unlikely event he was hit, until around him lay a field of corpses._

_He'd been quite proud of that; it was far more than he'd ever taken on in one engagement before. He felt confident that he was well on his way to reclaiming his lost skill, skill that would be vital if he were to overcome the Calamity. His blood buzzed about his ears, and his eyes were filled with the haze of combat, and the elation of victory. Or so he had assumed._

_And then, he'd looked down._

_Protruding from his abdomen was a parting gift. He'd recognised it as the Tri-Forked Boomerang of the Lizalfos Chieftain. A distant part of him had wondered where it had gotten to; after all, to lose sight of a weapon in combat was to invite injury, but he'd dismissed it after slaying the last of the monsters._

_Clearly, he now had his answer._

_Just above the jagged edges of the blade were the shafts of three arrows, all having penetrated his cuirass, and ribcage behind it._

_His sword fell from numb fingers and clattered to the ground, his life blood sinking into the parched dirt, vanishing at an alarming rate. The dusty earth could drain him of every drop of blood in his body, and its thirst would still not be quenched._

_If he'd acted quickly, it's even possible that he could have survived those wounds. Sadly, the combination of exhaustion, and the light-headedness from blood loss was a lethal cocktail. He fumbled around his pack for anything that could staunch the flow, any healing elixirs he might have to hand. Alas, he had been robbed of the dexterity required for even such a simple task by the numbness that had settled in his chest, that had spread to even the tips of his fingers, until each one weighed as much as if it had been cast out of lead._

_He'd accepted it then; the Slate that rested not an arm's breadth from his hand's screen was blank, mocking him by reflecting the light from the Sun into his eyes. Even if he **could** activate it, and transport himself away, he knew that he was beyond saving; he'd lost too much blood for anything other than a fairy's immediate assistance to keep him alive._

_Fairies could not bring you back, after you were already gone. If they could, there would have been no need for the Shrine Of Resurrection._

_He closed his eyes, not wanting his last moments to be spoiled by the glare from the screen, it's incandescent sheen taunting his weakness, his inability to so much as shift his head out of its path. He'd then realised that if he died here, in this nameless field, then he would not be able to fulfil his task, free the rest of the Divine Beasts and Champions' spirits, and rescue Princess Zelda from Ganon. Hyrule would be doomed to destruction when her barrier failed to be sufficient containment, and Ganon would raze everything, and everyone, until only dust remained._

_The realisation had been enough to draw a startle, a futile denial from him, before his exhaustion crushed him again._

_He was just so tired._

_Even with this second chance, he'd proven himself to be nothing more than a worthless failure._

_The thought stung, but at least he'd been able to see Mipha one last time, free **her** from her eternal torment._

_He just prayed that when he found them in the afterlife, Mipha, and Sidon, would forgive him._

_And then, Link exhaled one final time, and expired._

_The next thing he knew, there was a warmth. It started in his chest, before expanding to encompass his entire body, supplanting and banishing the cold numbness he'd associated with his wounds from him. His eyes opened, and he was greeted with the disconcerting sight of three arrows, and one sword, floating away from where they had been embedded in his body, before falling to the ground with a dull clink once they were clear. Oddly, this movement brought no pain; the only sensation he was aware of was the gentle warmth that cradled him._

_And then, the frayed flesh was bathed in an azure light, before it spontaneously began stitching itself back together._

_Link looked on in silent astonishment as his wounds closed, sealing themselves and leaving nary a mark on the now blemish free skin above it._

_Movement at his side caught his eye, and he turned to look._

_And there she was._

_Floating around him, inspecting his prone form for any wounds she had missed, as if gravity was merely a suggestion that she could ignore at her whimsy. She had always moved with an otherworldly grace, but this went rather above and beyond his previous impressions, as she swam through air with even more ease than she might have once through water._

_Seemingly satisfied with her performance, she'd turned to him, catching his eye with her own. He barely even registered that she was translucent, and awash in the turquoise colour of the spirit flames he'd seen around her and Rhoam's ghosts. She'd offered him a long-suffering sigh, and a demure smile._

_''It is my pleasure.''_

_Link had then remembered her vow upon Vah Ruta, all those years ago, and, more recently, her speech in the dank chambers of a newly-freed Divine Beast. How she had bestowed upon him Mipha's Grace: The healing power that encapsulated the complete manifestation of her love, and devotion._

_She had made him a promise, and she intended to keep her word. The dawning comprehension brought him to tears._

_And then, her apparition had vanished, disintegrating into a hundred thousand sparkling dew drops, and shimmering will-o'-the-wisps, that were carried off by the wind._

_In the aftermath of her leaving, Link had spent a frankly pathetic amount of time, desperately rummaging in the incorporeal residue she'd left behind, hoping beyond all reason that it would summon her back to his side, that he wouldn't have to return to this crippling loneliness, and how lost he felt without her..._

_He spent the rest of that day in Zora's Domain, silently, stealthily weeping at the foot of her statue, until a silent voice snapped him out of his reverie._

_''Mipha's Grace is ready.''_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The second time Mipha's Grace activated **really** wasn't his fault._

_If anything, he blamed the Sheikah, and the ludicrously convoluted placements of the Shrines he was supposed to reach._

_Which was why he had happened to be scrambling across an overhanging cliff edge, precariously suspended over a several hundred metre drop, onto hard, unforgiving stone._

_It would be rather ironic if the trials they had devised to test him, and help him improve, ended up doing the Calamity's job for it._

_And rather hilarious to consider that they **would have** , if not for Mipha._

_The Duelling Peaks were quite the striking rock formation, in his opinion. That didn't change the fact that he would have been perfectly content to admire them from a distance, if not for the pair of Shrines that adorned each mountain's peak._

_Alright, maybe that was a lie. It's entirely possible that his wanderlust would have brought him up here sooner or later, but that didn't fit into his narrative, so he consciously chose to ignore it._

_He had noted them first on his way to Kakariko Village from the Plateau, however he'd elected to tackle the imposing cliffs when he was a bit more accustomed to free climbing, and had built up more strength and stamina with which to do so._

_West Necluda had the unfortunate tendency to be rather fickle with its weather. As a result of this, despite beginning his climb under clouds that could be described as 'pleasantly overcast', not twenty minutes later, he was beneath a sky that was 'ominously stormy'. When the floodgates had opened, he'd been left scrabbling for purchase on the rain slicked slopes._

_Purchase he did not find in time._

_Normally, this might not have been such a dangerous setback, due to his Paraglider. Frustrating, undeniably, but not dangerous. That was before another jutting rock clipped him before he could withdraw it, sending him spiralling towards an inevitable, and messy, end._

_Hitting the ground at near-terminal velocity was an experience unlike any other Link could describe. He'd expected pain, been ready for it, but with the speed at which he was moving, he barely felt a thing. Almost as if he'd blinked, blacked out for a second, then opened his eyes, lying at the bottom of the cliff, with Mipha's ghost hovering above him._

_At one time, she'd always been so fretful in checking him over for injuries. Now, however, she seemed entirely certain in her diagnoses, confident that she had not missed anything._

_From the look on her face, Link was fairly sure that she was desperately suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at his antics. None of that exasperation made it into her voice, though._

_''It is my pleasure.''_

_And then she was gone again._

_Link put off climbing the Duelling Peaks for several weeks, after that incident. He also paid more attention to his Slate's weather forecasting ability._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The third time it happened, he really should have been more careful._

_However, when faced with people in distress, it is a Hero's duty to come to their aid._

_The sobbing woman had caused him to lower his guard, a mistake he **really** should have been beyond at this point. Especially with how much rode on his survival and success._

_The smell of bananas should have served as warning enough, however._

_When he moved to her side, to offer his assistance, perhaps in regathering her scattered possessions, or in addressing any wounds she might have been nursing, the woman, in a display of brutality and skill that he would have later been begrudgingly impressed by, slashed her sickle right across his exposed throat._

_He would freely admit that it caught him off guard._

_Normally, Yiga agents liked to pose dramatically, or spout off a threatening and unimaginative one-liner, before magically changing into their uniforms, and attacking him._

_Not this one. Clearly, she had more brains than the rest of them put together._

_But when he fell to his knees, gasping, reaching up with his hands in a desperate attempt to staunch the flow of blood from his now severed jugular that was painting the earth between them the same ghastly colour as the Yiga's outfits, she had turned away, to praise her Dark Overlord, and gloat over the Hero's dying gurgles._

_''It is my pleasure.''_

_The agent seemed rather shocked to hear the voice of another, given that they were quite isolated on the path, mere moments before, wheeling around to observe the new party._

_That shock paled in comparison to seeing the Hero on his feet, with sword unsheathed, in perfect health, and with a murderous look in his eyes. Her bravado fled her, and her face whitened in terror._

_Link had savoured her expression immensely. He almost wished he'd thought to snap a picture of it with the Slate that hung at his waist. He'd barely even taken notice of the disappearing form of his beloved Zora. A mistake that he would regret later._

_In that moment though, he was filled with a vicious, brutal glee._

_He might have taken a bit **too much** pleasure in repaying the favour._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The fourth time, it was a conscious choice._

_Perhaps that was a bit of a misnomer. Unlike the other Champions' Abilities, he could never directly control Mipha's Grace. It only activated when he was on the brink of death, after all._

_But this time, he willingly chose to expose himself to death's doorstep in order to activate it._

_It was actually a far more tactical decision than most might realise._

_As it happened, he'd noticed that whenever Mipha's Grace had activated in the past, it had not just healed whatever ailments or wounds he was currently suffering from, but it also invigorated him with more energy and vitality than he possessed when he was at his best._

_That kind of instant rejuvenation was something he'd desperately needed right then._

_He'd been fighting a Lynel. He'd become so experienced at it that he almost had it down to an art form, at this point. However, this battle was just the latest in a series of many that day, and Link had found that his energy was running low._

_So when the Lynel, in a move that reeked of desperation, threw a telegraphed haymaker towards the young man, he'd just... blinked._

_In the time that existed between moments, that he could only seem to access when in a fight, he'd considered..._

_What if he just let it hit him?_

_It would obviously be enough to fell him, which would, of course activate Mipha's Grace, and restore him to even better than perfect health._

_~~And if it gave him another glimpse of the woman he adored, and missed so keenly, then all the better for it.~~ _

_When he'd opened his eyes, he'd realised that he could no longer feel the floor beneath him._

_The ground had rushed up to meet him, and he'd landed in an awkward tangle of limbs, wheezing as his mangled body rolled over, before coming to a halt._

_The Lynel had sighed in relief, clearly having felt Link's chest cavity collapse under its mighty blow. That kind of wound was invariably fatal, after all, and the Lynel had been pushed beyond any comfortable limit by his incessant assault._

_Then, he'd seen Mipha. It was funny, he'd thought, that although she was in the form of a translucent spirit, **she** seemed to be the one seeing through **him**._

_From the expression on her face, Link could tell that she'd **known** that he should have, **could have,** dodged that attack, that even his fatigue should not have hindered him._

_But, she had made him a promise._

_''...It is my pleasure.''_

_Link swore he had not imagined the uncharacteristic pause, before she quoted the line that had begun to plague both his most pleasant dreams, and most horrible nightmares._

_The Lynel had not lasted long, after that._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_After that, well..._

_All this time, Link had continued on his quest, had grown stronger, more experienced._

_He found himself having to rely on Mipha bailing him out less and less._

_Having freed the other Champions, he found himself all too often calling on their abilities: Urbosa to clear out a group of monsters, Daruk to protect him from attacks, and Revali to aid in his mobility._

_But, he'd grown so strong, that he found himself not needing to have Mipha heal him._

_If he'd been able to consciously control it, he would have held no qualms about using her magic to heal even the smallest of wounds (provided he was unlike to accrue any more in the time it would take her magic to recharge), yet, of course, that was not how Mipha's Grace operated on him._

_It was comforting, being able witness the apparitions of his comrades in the moments he invoked their power. The quiet knowledge that they were still supporting him did wonders for his confidence, and morale._

_In short, he was missing her. Her loving stare, and words of encouragement, as she brought him back from the brink._

_He would never be so arrogant as to refuse her ability, or 'turn it off', if such a thing were possible; he knew that one could never guarantee events to such an extent, no matter their skill. Nor was he too arrogant, or prideful to call upon her aid. Not when she had been healing him since almost before he could even walk. Having an extra layer of contingency was never a bad idea, even despite his now near-invulnerability in combat. Especially since death may decide to try and reclaim him through the most inopportune of methods, leaving him unable to defend himself._

_He supposed the Shatterback Point Incident had educated him of that much._

_It was hard to defend from or dodge, say, a hundred metre drop. Paraglider notwithstanding, of course._

_Which is what brought him to the edge of the Tabantha Canyon._

_He was very fond of the gorge; a mighty and magnificent testament to the beauty and power of nature that never failed to leave him feeling humble. Furthermore, he'd made many fond memories chasing the Spirit Dragon Dinraal along this ravine, and harvesting scales and teeth from it to trade to the Great Fairies for upgrades to his armour._

_But now, he was here for a different reason._

_As he stepped closer to the edge, he looked downwards at what would be his fate. It would be so simple, so **easy** to just step forwards, and let himself fall. In fact, he'd thrown himself into this canyon countless times, only to unfurl his glider and sail away._

_He stepped forwards._

_He was now in free-fall, attention captured by the banded rock formations he was accelerating past. For a moment, he was struck by the all too familiar mortal fear, and wanted to grab on to his glider. Indeed, he could open it at any moment, and catch himself. He suppressed the urge, secure in the knowledge that Mipha would catch him instead._

_He hit the ground, and everything faded to black._

_When he came to, he saw her again. It had been so long, that tears filled his eyes, and he shot her a true, albeit weary smile._

_Confusion and horror began to mount when he realised she was not returning it._

_Instead, Mipha only looked upon him with agony, and a bone-chilling regret. She had seen what he was willing to do, the injuries to which he would subject himself just to look upon her again, and was filled with sorrow, and disgust. Disgust at herself, for leaving him, and him, for mutilating himself for her. Had she still possessed the capability, she had no doubt that she would vomit at the scene, such was her anguish at the behaviour of her beloved._

_But... she had made him a promise._

_If Link had not already been tipped off, he would have been then, as after finishing her work, she vanished, without even reciting her customary line. In her wake, where she had floated, Link noticed a single drop of water fall, turning the sandy rock dark where it splashed on the ground._

_The single droplet was then joined by many of Link's own._

_He would later hear from his Zora friends that Vah Ruta had spontaneously begun emitting water again, much to their concern._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Link could not have put into words the pain he'd experienced at Mipha's aghast stare._

_But, the pain he felt at her absence was even greater still._

_Unfortunately, he was far too prideful to allow any monsters to strike him down; he did not want to give them the pleasure._

_He'd eventually found himself experimenting with all sorts of ways of bringing himself to the edge of death, only to have Mipha forcibly drag him back. She seemed to have the least adverse reaction to methods that left him physically undamaged, insofar as he could be whilst suffering from a lethal wound. She'd almost begged him, tears falling freely, to stop hurting himself on her account, but Link had only shaken his head sadly. He cherished the few moments he could still scrounge with her more than the pain he was inflicting upon himself could ever hope to offset. He could only pray that Mipha would eventually come around to seeing it the same way that he did._

_He took care to never injure himself before times when he knew he would be fighting, and always gave Mipha's Grace sufficient time to recharge before entering combat again, but..._

_She never left him by declaring that healing him was her 'pleasure' anymore._

_He found that he missed that, too._

_Evidently, she did not want to have to be healing him, knowing that he was self-inflicting those wounds in order to get her to do so, just to spend time in her presence. (He wondered how she would react should she realise that he had done similar as a child, and young man, by asking her to heal even the most minor of wounds he'd undergone, seeking any excuse to spend more time with her. She'd always indulged him playfully, so perhaps she'd always known. She'd always fussed over even the most minor of scratches when she noticed them. In that case, why could she not see that what he was doing now was exactly the same?)_

_But, whatever reservations she may have had..._

_She still loved him, and..._

_She had made him a promise._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Someone screamed.

So detached as he felt in that instant, it took Sidon a long time to realise that it was him.

When he'd seen the tip of Link's sword vanish into his body, for a single moment, time itself had stood still. When it restarted, Sidon had stood dumbly, as Link lowered himself to his knees with a remarkable elegance, considering the metre of steel jutting out of him. Coming back to himself with a jolt, he scampered to Link's side, wringing his hands in terror. 

He'd known that Link was in a very dangerous place, had been mentally preparing himself to encounter all manner of destructive tendencies or ideations, however...

He had not expected _this._ For Link to actually go through with it. Not after talking him back from the edge of the cliff, not after the warm, companionable dinner they had shared, not after Link's declaration of _love..._

Or had that been a goodbye?

Sidon moved to cradle Link, to manoeuvre him into a more comfortable position. He couldn't let himself be distracted by his shock; he needed to deal with the reality if he wanted to save Link's life.

And the horrifying, incomprehensible reality was that Link had just stabbed himself.

Sidon blanched at the blood that was pooling around the entry wound, seeping into the fabric of Link's shirt and tainting it with a sickly red. There was _so much blood..._ He did not know how much blood a Hylian could lose before dying; he was no medic, unlike his sister. However it did not take a certified healer to know that the rate at which it was leaving his body was disastrous. What he did know, was that he _needed_ to pressurise the wound, if he had any hope of stemming the flow, and preventing Link from bleeding out.

He ignored the rational, realistic voice in the back of his head that told him that it would be a fruitless endeavour; that Link's wound was too traumatic for anything less than immediate expert medical intervention to save his life. Assistance he was not capable of providing, unlike his sister.

What good was realism, anyway, when the realistic outcome was unfathomable?

When he'd tried to move his hands to Link's stomach, Link had, with surprising lucidity, caught them with one of his own, his other still resting on the decorative hilt of the golden blade.

Link had looked up at him, taking in Sidon's expression of heartbreak, confusion, and sheer terror, and he just... smiled. As if everything was going to be okay. If anything, he looked _happy. Relieved._

Everything was most certainly _not_ okay.

He gently pushed Sidon's hands away, ignoring the Prince's pronounced protests, then returned his hand to join its twin on the hilt, his placid face belying the physical state he was in. And then, he whispered:

''It's alright, Sidon. She'll be here in just a moment.''

And then, he'd gritted his teeth, and wrenched the blade free, taking a hefty chunk of viscera and blood along with it, some of which splashed onto Sidon. The iron-rich blood was incredibly well camouflaged against his rouge scales, however against the pure white of his chest, the red droplets stood out starkly; his body a grisly canvas for Link's macabre mosaic.

Sidon wasn't sure, but he had reason to believe that he'd screamed again.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Link had welcomed falling on his sword, and the familiarly sweet, blissful agony of gutting himself, with (figuratively) open arms.

He hadn't ever intended to become so masochistic. However, he had subconsciously come to associate the agony of a mortal wound with the imminent arrival of his precious Mipha, and the soothing sensation of her healing magic. It was some sort of twisted response; conditioning himself until debilitating pain brought about the euphoria he felt at Mipha's presence as his brain had begun to conflate the two. Though, he would not lie that he experienced a fair amount of catharsis in self-flagellation; the comeuppance that he certainly _deserved_ for his failures. It was therapeutic, in its own way, giving himself an outlet for his internalised hatred.

He'd drily pondered if there would even be anything for his sword to lacerate behind his skin, on account of his previous declaration of being 'hollow' to Sidon. He shouldn't have worried; he'd been gutted (and gutted himself) enough times to know that his internal organs were all accounted for.

He'd ripped the sword free to hasten the process up a bit. He would have still died from the wound, having severed his abdominal aorta, but he had no reason to prolong this, and terrorise Sidon for any longer than he absolutely had to.

He'd seen the expression on Sidon's face when he'd approached, queasy at the gore, and sick at watching someone he loved dying in front of his eyes, horror-struck in the knowledge that they'd done it to themself, and warring with denial at the entire situation. He'd seen those emotions redoubled when some of his blood spattered onto his body.

He... really regretted that. Noting the horror in Sidon's eyes had reminded Link of all of the sensible reasons he'd established that had prevented him from showing him this before; he hadn't wanted Sidon to see him in such a pitiful state, to show such weakness to one he respected...

But, as he'd come to realise over the course of this evening, if he wanted Sidon to understand (and he would admit that he _needed_ Sidon to understand), he would have to show him Mipha's Grace.

Sidon knew that Link had inherited each Champion's ability, and with that came an implied understanding that Link had received Mipha's healing abilities...

Yet, Sidon had never seen it in action. Perhaps he'd assumed that Mipha's power was a passive effect, restoring his strength after each battle as she had once patched up the wounds of soldiers returning from skirmishes, or some other means to achieve a similar end, and not the explosive, dynamic regeneration that it was. Or perhaps not. But Link knew for a fact that he _did not_ know that Mipha's apparition appeared when she healed him.

Because, if he _had_ known, then, whether he would admit it or not, he would have wanted, have _needed,_ to see her, and Link would not have been able to deny him.

Despite the fact that he'd so desperately _wanted_ to show Sidon, all this time, the fact that he could never activate Mipha's Grace on demand meant that he hadn't ever done so, because in order to do so, he would have to die. 

It did not really require stating, but _he really hadn't wanted to have Sidon watch him die._ Not when he knew what effect it would have on him.

But, as he'd come to accept, if Sidon were to understand, then he'd have to.

Besides, maybe seeing his long lost sister again, coupled with Link's inevitable recovery, and the fact he was in no real danger to begin with, would be enough for Sidon to forgive him.

Although... seeing Sidon falling apart not five feet from him, his chest heaving in what was likely an early onset panic attack, squinting past the encroaching ring of blackness around his field of vision that heralded his approaching death, Link could not repress another pang of guilt. For all that he'd tried to reassure him, Link realised belatedly that he probably should have done more to prepare him for his latest shocking, and supremely idiotic, decision.

Link exhaled one final bubbling, shuddering breath, then fell still, barely able to contain his anticipation, and apprehension.

Mipha was coming.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sidon watched, gobsmacked, as Link's chest deflated, then fell still.

He hadn't heard Link's death-rattle, on account of the roaring in his ears; his auditory hallucination drowning everything else out, until all he could hear was unrelenting white noise.

That might have been a mercy: He had no doubt that the sound Link had made would have tormented him for the rest of his days, replaying in endless loops as he sat as helpless to save him as he was now.

Anger, panic and sorrow filled him, until he was sure his head would burst from the pressure they exerted. But above all of that, his mind was occupied with one single question:

Just... _why?_

He didn't know he was even capable of such a pathetic, broken plea.

Why did Link think that this was his best, his only option? Was Sidon's love not enough for him? A familiar rage brewed up inside him and reared itself again; he'd been willing to give _everything_ to support Link, and _this_ was what he had chosen, instead?! The warped memory of a woman one hundred years dead?

No... His anger was whisked away by the cloud of rationality, overcast by his sadness. That was unfair, he knew. To both his sister and Link.

Sidon was not naïve. He'd seen this before, as much as he wished that he hadn't.

Not all fatalities of war occur on the battlefield.

Sometimes, the wounds inflicted on a person were too great to ever recover from. That went for the psychological, as well as the physical.

And there could be no argument that Link had lost so, _so_ much...

More than Sidon could ever hope to replace, certainly.

Sidon collapsed to the ground, next to Link's still form, and wept bitter tears into Link's tattered shirt, fisting into the material in woeful denial, ignoring how the material warped, then tore further under his unmoderated application of force, until he'd almost ripped it off of Link's chest entirely. The surreality of the situation sent him reeling, almost as if he just expected Link to pop up, and declare that it had all been some sick prank, which Sidon would undoubtedly throttle him for.

He dismissed the fantasy with the brutal coldness of reality; even to one as powerful as Link, that was a fatal wound. Since there existed no other being capable of inflicting it upon him, he'd had to have done it himself, as he'd so clearly witnessed...

Had Link paid no attention to what he'd said? He'd known that one day, he would have to let him go...

_He just did not want it to be this soon._

It was only his proximity to Link's immobile body that allowed Sidon to truly witness what occurred next. He'd been shaking, sniffing violent sobs into Link's stomach, paying no heed to the congealing blood that he was all but covered in, in blatant disregard of his usual fastidious attitude towards cleanliness, when he'd heard something unusual, the roaring in his ears having previously receded in favour of a deathly silence.

He was hard pressed to describe the hum that filled the air, but he realised that it seemed to be centred on Link's torso, right on top of the gruesome, still-weeping wound he'd inflicted. He turned his eyes towards the horrific sight, their usual sparkling gold dulled into more of a muddy amber by his tears, only for inquisitiveness to suddenly overpower his anguish:

Link's entire body was bathed in a soft, azure light, illuminating him with a ghostly shade against the blackness of the night. Sidon was abstractly distracted by revisiting his earlier statement: 

Before, when he'd first happened upon him, it may have been his romanticism and imagination talking. Now though, bathed in the gentle glow of whatever magic had embraced him, _Link **truly** looked utterly ethereal._

Inside the wound itself, however, the light had intensified drastically, yet it never reached a brightness where Sidon was forced to avert his eyes; the light cool, and soothing, and seemingly incapable of causing any harm by its very nature. He found himself morbidly fascinated by it. Startled out of his grief, he now recognised that Link had mentioned showing something to him. Was _this_ what he had been referring to?

It was at that moment that Sidon was struck by recollection; this was the same glow he'd seen around Link the night he fell into the reservoir, just before he'd arrived. The same night he thought he'd heard that impossible voice...

In the time it took him to blink, he felt Link shift, although it seemed to not be under his own power. Almost as if someone else had pulled his inanimate body into their lap, shifting his weight from Sidon. When he opened his eyes, he turned his head...

And his mind subsequently shorted out.

Because unless Link's suicide had driven Sidon to complete insanity... 

'' _Mimi?_ ''

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mipha sat on the ground, thighs supporting Link's head. She was gently carding her immaterial fingers through his tangled hair, matted from the salt whipped up by the sea breeze. Her ministrations were barely sufficient to loosen the snarled strands, letting them fall apart into a more natural formation. She gazed down at his face, undisturbed as if he were merely sleeping, with an immeasurable poignance.

Her power was already well at work in restoring him to health; he'd be left physically immaculate within the minute.

_''Hello, Sidon.''_ She greeted, simply. One hundred years of unfulfilled wishes, of desperate desires, of hypothetical conversations, planning what she would say if given the (impossible) opportunity to do so, fell to the wayside. She could not have summarised the many, _many_ warring emotions, unending apologies, and missed opportunities she'd wanted to correct into a sermon longer than even the late King Rhoam's formidable public addresses, let alone the woefully minute duration she could be present for whilst her Grace was active, so she'd had to forgo all of that for something very basic.

Unfortunately, this felt rather unbefitting, given the gravity of the situation; her reunion with her brother after so long should have deserved far more fanfare than this aborted farce.

Although, after Link had freed her and Ruta, had she not agonised over being able to see her family just _one more time...?_ She should know by now to be more careful with what she wished for.

She supposed that she really ought to thank him, though, for granting her most implausible wish. Even if she could not approve of the method by which he'd achieved it.

But that would have to come later; her time was short enough as it was.

Sidon had recognised the ghost immediately; it wasn't surprising, seeing as he'd spent almost every day in the last century staring at her immortalised likeness. The stone of her statue was coincidentally a very similar shade to her astral projection. So accurate was the statue's resemblance, he could almost believe that it had teleported itself to their side, shrunk down somewhat to better match her actual size, and turned slightly transparent, and Mipha had simply appropriated it as a surrogate for her body, in the absence of her biological vessel. Indeed, the stonemasons who had carved it deserved his highest commendations.

Had she always been so small, though? In his memories, she had always towered above him, larger than life itself. This impression had been compounded by her statue's exaggerated proportions, still looking down at him even now, despite his own towering stature. Seeing her true size, after all this time was utterly jarring; despite her reputation for fierceness and skill, Sidon was hard pressed to believe it, given how gentle, how _frail_ she appeared to be. He knew, of course, that appearances could be deceiving, and there was more to strength than sheer size from Link, but... 

Judging by her size, she was only _barely_ into what was considered a Zora's (very) young adulthood. Sidon was bewildered by the fact that she'd already amassed such a reputation at such a young age, even _in spite_ of her physical immaturity. Then, he was filled with a fresh wave of grief by the consideration that such talent, such promise, had been brutally and tragically cut short.

She then spoke up again, in a voice that a century of absence had eroded the memory of, until he'd only held fleeting impressions of it. He internally admonished himself; how could he have ever let himself forget even a single detail about her? He'd tried so, so hard to keep her memory alive, in spite of her death, but...

Clearly he hadn't been dedicated enough.

_''I can heal Link of any physical wound he sustains, but I fear that the damage done to his psyche is beyond the scope of my abilities to remedy.''_

She'd then looked upon him with a glassy, pupil-less gaze: The same one that had shone kindly down upon him every night he'd spent in the Domain. It seemed that even all of this time could not erode her skill for conveying information without even needing to use words.

He instinctively understood what she was trying to imply:

_'But it may not be beyond **yours**.'_

He was too unbalanced, to shocked, to tell her that her confidence in him was grievously misplaced. Despite all of his efforts, he'd _never_ been able to live up to her. As such, he was consequently incapable of what she asked. Moreover, if _she_ was unable to help him, with all of her knowledge, wisdom and power, why was she so certain that _he_ could do what she could not? 

She'd then leaned over Link, to rest a spectral hand on Sidon's cheek, framing his face and brushing a thumb over the fin resting above it. He'd felt a phantom pressure, and a reassuring coolness over her touch; it could never compare to the solidity of a physical body, but it was still so much more corporeal than he'd even dared to consider, awaiting her caress with bated breath.

Mipha wiped her finger beneath his eyes, and drew away the tears that had inadvertently fallen, then offered him a sad, yet brilliant smile. She gathered all of the love and affection she'd saved up in her century of absence into her body, then thrust it towards him without reservation, nor hesitation.

_''You're so much more capable than you realise. I'm so proud of you, sweet Sidon.''_

With that, she was gone, taking her ethereal glow with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt to write.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidon comes to terms with Link's demonstration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late; I got a bit distracted last night.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

### Chapter 7

### 

Link opened his eyes, noticing Sidon's absent gaze, forlornly locked on the space Mipha had vacated. He elected to bring attention to himself gently, lest he startle Sidon into a panic.

He grimaced. Sidon had likely had enough of that for an entire century. Link was regrettably aware that he was the cause of most of it; it came with his occupation, much to the chagrin of himself, and anyone who came to care about him. Goodness knows that Mipha's fretting had been unbearable, if only for how upset she could become if she thought he wasn't taking adequate care of himself.

In all likelihood, he _hadn't_ been taking the best care of himself, and therefore her fussing had been warranted. Unfortunately, whilst he'd never been lacking in survival instincts, he instead lacked a great deal of common sense, which more than made up for it. 

''Do you now understand what I meant when I said that she wouldn't let me die?'' His tone was resigned, and exhausted. Despite the fact that Mipha's Grace usually overcharged him with an abundance of energy, his mental fatigue was so great that it outweighed Mipha's gift entirely, leaving him on the edge of blissful unconsciousness. If he were fortunate, his dreams would not be tormented by those he'd failed to save, in which case he might actually awaken somewhat rested.

He didn't have high hopes, however. There was no need to set himself up for inevitable disappointment with reckless optimism.

Sidon jolted at his address, despite his best intentions. Link sighed, bringing a hand to cover his face. He couldn't bring himself to look Sidon in the eyes. When he discovered that his hands were covered in blood which he was now smearing over his brow, he winced, but did not move them away.

''Link?'' Sidon asked tentatively and reproachfully. Link's heart skipped a beat at the myriad of unfavourable emotions Sidon expressed, even through his fervent gratitude.

''As she said,'' Link answered, ''she can heal me of any physical wound.'' predicting and circumventing Sidon's inevitable question. ''As _I_ said, it was past time I showed you, anyway.''

Throughout his explanation, he hadn't moved from the ground. The chill of the earth was starting to seep through his tattered shirt. Link sighed, wishing he'd brought his cloak over when he'd gotten up, though he was vaguely aware that it may have slightly invalidated his demonstration, had Sidon not seen him being healed. Sadly, he still felt too drowsy to actually get up, and remedy his current exposure. He wouldn't even object to falling asleep right where he was, given the opportunity, though he would endeavour to see this conversation through first.

''Did you have to skewer yourself in order to show me?!'' Sidon demanded, irately. Despite the gratification he'd been offered by his sister that he'd _needed_ his whole life, Sidon was still seething in incense at the overwhelming fright Link had subjected him to. 

At the back of his mind, Link truly hoped that he hadn't shattered Sidon's faith in him with his little stunt, however if there was any relief Sidon expressed at his revival, it was being completely overshadowed by his disdain. Not that Link blamed him for any of it.

He was just too tired to really care, at that moment. Given enough time, it was possible that Sidon would come to see him as he, himself, did, and would leave him, and would be unquestionably better off for it. Sidon had previously declared that he loved Link, and implied that he would stay with Link despite everything. Whilst Link deeply desired that to be true, he was aware, deep down, that eventually one of his many undesirable aspects could cause an impermissible issue, and end up driving him away. For good.

He only prayed that he hadn't already managed to accomplish it.

Nayru only knows how the hell Mipha had fallen in love with him, had wanted to devote her life to him. Although, in fairness, he doubted he was as much of a wreck then as he was now. Not that that said a great deal: He'd never been a paragon of mental stability.

Still, Sidon had asked him a question, and he owed him an answer.

''As a matter of fact, I did.'' Shocking Sidon into flinching back at his brusque statement, Link suppressed a yawn.  
''Mipha's Grace will only activate after I have suffered a _mortal wound._ That is why I had not shown you before tonight. However, after our lengthy conversations, I came to realise that you could _never_ understand my situation, or perspective until I did. Furthermore, I had thought that it would be nice to reunite you with your sister, if only so very briefly, even in spite of the unpleasant circumstances by which it occurred.'' He huffed, still glaring into the back of his hand.

''Well, why could you not have just told me?!'' Sidon asked indignantly. Link groaned, and pressed the hand into his forehead.

''How well do you think you would have reacted to me telling you that I was regularly struck down?'' Link posed, rhetorically.

Sidon gulped, as he thought it over... Not well, if he was being honest with himself.

''I didn't want to worry you.'' Link explained obviously. ''Also, if I'd told you that I actually _saw_ Mipha when she brought me back, I would have placed you into the rather awkward position of desperately wanting to see her, as is completely understandable, but not wanting to see me get hurt to do so. By not telling you, I spared you from that dilemma.'' He sighed again.

Sidon moved to reply, harshly, but Link cut in front of him:

''I agree, it was your right to know, but it wouldn't have changed anything, except to make things complicated.''

Sidon stilled for a second; that had not been what he'd planned to say. He was going to reiterate that Link could have simply told him tonight, without the need for a demonstration.

~~Even if he secretly agreed that it would have made things incredibly complicated, with regards to his sister.~~

''As for why I showed you now,'' Link continued, ''I mentioned that I wanted you to see Mipha.'' He didn't want to play dirty by trying to guilt Sidon with mentions of his sister. Sidon could never politely refute the fact that he'd desperately wanted to see Mipha again. Even more so the fact that he'd been beyond gratified by her validation.  
''And I take no issue with the method.'' Link sniffed dismissively. He was aware that that would probably upset Sidon further, but Sidon had wanted to know his reasoning, and perspective, so now he had it.

''Well, perhaps _I_ take issue with the method.'' Sidon snarled, predictably. ''I thought I'd just witnessed my brother _kill himself._ '' he tailed off into a hiss that could not disguise the anguish, and loss he'd felt when he thought Link was dying, tears being renewed again. Link's soul withered under the smothering weight of Sidon's emotions, wanting to curl in on himself again. 

Distantly, Sidon realised that for Link to be 'comfortable' with killing himself, he'd likely have to have done it a great many times. The conclusion chilled him to his core. Yet another thing he'd need to interrogate him over, if he wanted to understand and alleviate Link's trauma. His sister had asked it of him, not that she had needed to. However, because she _had_ asked, he would never, _never_ give up on the task.

''I'm sorry for that.'' Link mumbled. ''Truly. But I needed you to _understand._ '' He pleaded, as if it would suddenly make Sidon see his logic, his rationality, and hopefully forgive him for the hurt it had caused him.  
''I'm so sorry I hurt you Sidon. It's all I seem to be able to do nowadays.'' He winced behind his weak chuckle.

Sidon vehemently disagreed with that, his digressions aside. This was the same man who had cooked him dinner from his own supplies and bantered with him, the same man who lit up the dullest ocean like a ray of unfiltered sunshine, the same man his sister had fallen in love with, and he had claimed as kin in her stead. Even taking into account his missteps, Link was more than worth the effort, for all of the good he had done, for all of the joy he'd brought. Sidon only hoped to be able to make him see that.

''If I'd told you what I had planned, you wouldn't have let me do it.'' Link sighed in clarification. Indeed, Sidon would not have. Would anyone permit such unhealthy, damaging behaviour from one they loved? Sidon thought not. That explained why Link had been so vague in his implications beforehand, he supposed.  
''But you _needed_ to understand. You _needed_ to see her. And I think Mipha needed to see you, too. In fact, I'd be happy to show your Father, too, but I imagine Muzu would complain about my blood all over the floor of the Throne Room.'' his weariness bled into his words not unlike how his blood had into his shirt, until his tone was drenched in his fatigue, compromising the clarity of his speech.

''You ARE NOT permitted to make jokes about this, Link.'' Sidon snapped, causing Link's head to snap up from where he'd been starting to doze. Sidon rarely shouted in anger. The fact that he had was an indication of how truly affected he was. Link grimaced again, and withdrew.

''Gods, I'm sorry, Sidon. I'm just so... so very...'' Link paused, occupied with an enormous yawn.  
'' _Tired._ '' He finished, lamely. He meant it in _every_ sense of the word. Sidon picked up on that too, his hitched breath serving as confirmation. 

Sidon sighed again, his ire escaping him, having been displaced by a similar weariness to that which Link was experiencing. 

''You may rest, Link. I will watch over you. I _promise_ that I will be there when you awaken.'' He declared, and Link almost wept at the love and respect Sidon could still dredge up, even after everything he had exposed him to. Evidently, Sidon also possessed the same boundless empathy that Mipha had been so renowned for. What had he ever done to deserve such a forgiving family? 

Sidon shifted Link's lethargic form, until he rested in his lap the same way he had rested before in Mipha's. He slowly began carding his own clawed fingers through his hair in the same motions he'd seen his sister perform, if a bit more stilted by his stress, as he attempted to lull Link into a restful sleep: He'd mentioned that he was tired, so it was probably for the best.

Sidon internally marvelled at the fine strands, sharing the fascination his sister had shown for it, as Link's hair spooled around his fingers like the golden thread that embroidered his regalia. Sidon, too, was getting rather drowsy, but he still had energy to spare. He'd need it, if he was to maintain his vigil. Besides, it wouldn't be too long now before his escort caught up with him, and he could relinquish Link, and himself, into their care. 

Sidon looked out over the ocean, at the first hints of pre-dawn twilight that brightened the Eastern sky, casting it into a canvas of calming colours, and he thought to himself aloud: 

''Yes, I daresay that Mipha must have loved it out here, indeed.''  
His only response was the distant cawing of the rousing sea birds, and the pitched rustle of the long grasses swaying in the breeze. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

True to his prediction, his guards found them not long before the Sun would begin to crest over the distant waves, its light and warmth signalling the beginning of a new day. 

Bazz and Gaddison looked somewhat haggard; understandable given their nightly trek. Sidon felt somewhat guilty for the stress and worry he had no doubt caused them, however... 

Once they saw the state of the Hylian in his lap, they understood that this situation had taken precedence. 

Signalling them to stand down, Sidon decided to pre-emptively alleviate their fears. Both of them had already lost Link once. They had already _mourned_ Link once. He thought that they would have been in no great hurry to repeat the experience. 

Glancing down, Sidon took stock of the man who was so deathly still in his lap. He found himself constantly having to reassure himself that Link's chest was still moving, that he was still breathing. That he had not silently expired, his soul having taken flight, leaving Sidon with an empty husk that used to be his best friend. 

Between Link's stillness, his torn clothing and the blood that was beginning to coalesce in a most nauseating manner, it wasn't hard to imagine why they had been so shocked, so afraid. 

''I must ask that you remain quiet, lest you wake him.'' Sidon murmured, a far cry from his usual booming tone, a wistful gentleness lacing his words. ''He really needs to sleep, and I'd be remiss to deny him his rest.'' 

Bazz had already fallen into a professional stance, his face carefully neutral, taking in Sidon's words with a remarkable discipline. Sidon knew him well enough, however, to know that he was merely masking his own horror behind an iron wall of professionalism. 

Gaddison, however, was less reserved, practically vibrating with a poorly restrained fury. 

''May I request your report, as well as the status of Sir Link, and Yourself, Your Highness?'' Bazz asked, and Sidon winced at the unwavering evenness of his voice, in the face of what was doubtlessly a personally distressing situation to find himself in. 

''I'm fine, Captain. Link is...'' Sidon did not quite know what to say.  
''Physically, he is uninjured.'' He finally settled on. Patently not a lie and likely enough to reassure them both. 

Both Bazz and Gaddison looked thoroughly unconvinced by that, and frankly, neither would Sidon be, in their positions.

''Then whose blood is painting not only yourself, but the ground around us?'' demanded Gaddison, forcefully, before remembering herself, and tacking on a half hearted ''Your Highness.'' 

Sidon closed his eyes, and sighed, allowing the breach of decorum fly right over his head. He understood her barely restrained exasperation, and found he could not blame her for it. If Bazz's scathing glare towards her was indication, he disagreed. Sidon spared Link another look, but the young man had not stirred from his slumber, and Sidon exhaled in relief. 

''Link was wounded.'' Sidon conceded. ''Rather grievously. However he has recovered fully from his injury.''  
'There.' He thought. He was telling the truth, after all. If not the whole truth. At least this way, he was not forced into a few uncomfortable explanations that they would likely not even believe. 

Dimly, he agreed with Link's assessment that revealing Mipha's presence indeed made things somewhat complicated. 

Bazz seemed relieved enough at that, as the rigidity of his posture melted before Sidon's gaze. It was not expressive enough to be classified as a 'sigh of relief', but given Bazz's disposition when on duty, it was likely as close as he would ever come. Gaddison, too, was markedly relieved by that, however Sidon watched a blanket of vitriol wash over her, as she settled in her resolve with a frighteningly dangerous look in her eyes. 

''Then point me in the direction of the bastard that did this.'' Gaddison _snarled,_ something feral, and Sidon sighed again, wondering how best to de-escalate her righteous fury. He didn't like his chances. Gaddison was notoriously bull-headed. She had taken it upon herself to become the 'Heroine' with an admirable determination, and she had succeeded. Unfortunately, a consequence of her unwavering resolution was that her notable battle prowess was only matched by her obstinance. 

Sidon could also tell that it was only Bazz's desire for vengeance for their wounded comrade that prevented him from admonishing her. 

''That would not be wise.'' Sidon replied, and before her anger could overflow and she said something regrettable towards himself, or worse, her rising volume awoke Link, Sidon continued: ''We must return to the Domain where he will be safe, until he can awaken. 

Neither of them liked it, letting this assault on their friend, their brother-in-arms, stand, that was obvious. Fortunately, their common sense, as well as desire to see Link safe beyond any petty vengeance that could still jeopardise his health, won out, and they stood down. 

''Do we need to prepare for another attack?'' Bazz asked, ever the vigilant guardsman. 

Sidon considered his words again. 

''I think,'' he offered, ''That Link is currently in no danger. It falls to us to escort him to the Domain, so that it remains that way. However, whilst he is vulnerable, it would be most prudent to remain watchful for any potential threats.'' Bazz gave a clipped salute, and took up position in front of Sidon, indicating for Gaddison to guard the rear. 

With that, Sidon rose, hauling Link over one shoulder, and the man's belongings over the other. Gaddison retrieved Link's sword, covered in cooled viscera, and gave it a tentative sniff, before recoiling. 

''This is not monster ichor.'' She observed, keenly. 

''No.'' Replied Sidon, simply. 

No doubt both guards were thinking of numerous possibilities regarding assassins, perhaps a remnant of the decimated Yiga Clan, come to seek vengeance for their kin, or the defeat of their god. 

Sidon was content to leave them to their contemplations. The reality was, after all, far more disturbing. 

After a few minutes of southwards walking, Bazz piped up. Gaddison was, thankfully, out of earshot currently, stewing to herself in simmering anger, which she channelled into a hyper vigilant gaze focussed to their flanks and rear. 

''I don't understand.'' He remarked. ''What manner of person could be capable of wounding Link so grievously?'' 

Sidon paused for so long, that Gaddison would have collided with him, if not for her sudden awareness of his presence. Finally, Sidon breathed another enormous sigh, looking down at the man strung so ignobly across his back with a penetrative gaze. 

''...He can tell you himself.'' He responded, somewhat dismissively. 

There was no further conversation until they reached the security of their home. Link fortunately remained unconscious for the entire journey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes _Hollow._
> 
> Phew. I'll freely admit that this was _exhausting_ to write. But, also, very satisfying. 
> 
> Link's far from out of the woods, yet. The time between _Hollow_ and the beginning of _A Promise Kept_ is rather large. I've not got a specific amount of time in mind, so feel free to fill that in yourselves.
> 
> Prelude 4 is going to be set _before_ the ending of BotW. I had mixed feelings about breaking chronology, but given that the entire point of uploading these Preludes after _APK_ was doing this somewhat rendered that moot.
> 
> I do have plans to write a Prelude set after _Hollow_ however that has not been written yet, so it may be some time before that is uploaded.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Expect an update to _APK_ within the next couple of days. I hope to see you then. :)


End file.
